I'm just thinking of words

This week, I came across some old files on my computer... musings of mine. I was thinking of transferring them to here but having read most of them, they are just far too personal. So I won't. But then it got me to thinking that my diary has suffered. No longer do I crack out my diary of a night and write my thoughts onto paper. Nope, now I do it on the go, I bring up a note folder on my phone, I take a notebook out of my bag, or I sit down at the nearest PC (normally my own, not a strangers, that would be strange) and put my thoughts through that medium. But I scream for a bit of order. I have no idea how to put all these things into one place. My diaries (1984-present) are in books, in a suitcase, in the loft. I know where they are. But these snippets of myself that are electronically stored (or notebooked) are just in files. I don't like that. Part of me thinks I should print them all out and bind them in a book and put them in the loft.

I'm not sure why I have this need to preserve them. I suppose that it's quite possible that I've read far too many Apocalypse/Zombie books....that quite possibly, I think that they could be a blueprint or a survival guide for the future. However, I'm quite sure that in the event of a complete fall out of humankind, the little and last survivors are not going to be hunting around a loft wondering where my words of 2011 went. Still, they might need some light relief from a day foraging for food and killing zombies. And then of course, my mind goes on a tangent of it's own and I'm seriously considering (just in case, one never knows), putting a disclaimer on the loft that these are not history books. Hmmm well they are in a way, they are my history

I suppose one could describe them as a blueprint for the most emotional, clumsy woman of the world.