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Personal blog of christian
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(No Title)If you found the only copy of a hidden portion of your personal history, and it was written in pencil, what would you do? Would you turn the pages over and over, committing the story to memory, as the very letters smudge into meaninglessness with the handling? Would you write over the marks with your ballpoint pen until the words seem nothing but a trumped-up forgery? I dreamed last night of five sheets of age-softened paper, on which was written the story of my life. "It's better than I remember it," I thought, "and worse than I remember it, too." I dreamed of driving to the place where multiple copies of the story could be made, and of how I would distribute them indiscriminately to friends and family in the name of history. The pages fanned out in the passenger seat, and the sun shone through the window. Upon arrival, the pencilled words had all faded into nothingness, and no amount of adjusting the machine for brightness and intensity would bring them back.
Posted by Katy on 07/03/02 at 02:16 PM
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