Digging through archives

I’m passively getting ready for my short trip, which begins tomorrow. I usually have these things more planned out than an Apollo space mission, but this time I’m probably going to end up throwing everything in a gym bag before I leave. I haven’t done any research on museums or anything else, so I’ll probably buy a map at the bus station and go from there.

It’s been very unproductive lately. I think I did about a line of writing for Rumored today, and that’s it. I spent the whole day digging through old mail messages, wishing I had more complete archives for the time I was in Bloomington. I kept mail messages from some people, but I also botched it up and accidentally deleted all of my mail from an ex-girlfriend, a very vital point in my history. I found out about the mistake when I was still in Bloomington, but it was far too late to get a backup from tape. I wish I had kept more outgoing mail, and more stuff from 1992 and 1993. But I didn’t. It’s too nostalgic to read the stuff I do have anyway.

The whole thing relates to this weird part of my disorder or makeup or whatever where I look back at the past a lot. It’s not like I used to play football and date cheerleaders and I want it to be the summer of 69 again. It’s a much more complicated nostalgia-related depression, where I think of myself in a different era. I wrote Summer Rain because of my feelings for myself in 1992, how much different I was and how I have so many vivid thoughts of those times. I can still see myself in the fall of 1992 like it was yesterday, like I’m really on some kind of vacation and I’ll return there again and pick up at some point on my old timeline. It’s like some kind of confusing time travel book, which is fitting because I’ve already started to write a confusing time travel book just so I can figure this stuff out.

So I dug through old mail. And it reminded me of 1993, 1995, different people and things I should have done and things that I miss. I don’t know if my thoughts are normal, somehow exaggerated, or psychotic. I’m guessing it isn’t too abnormal, as I’m pretty much able to function in society. I mean, I’m not blowing up computer companies because they will create machines that will someday destroy the world. Just reading a lot of old email.

I’ve got to record a few MiniDiscs and pack up some camera gear before bed. I probably won’t update this while I’m gone, so look for a full report when I return.

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