I was looking for this, on behalf of an acquaintance who wanted some pictures I had. And I found it and opened it and...
This is a lot of psychic baggage. A lot. Digging through old photos, looking for the ones requested, looking through old letters, how to deal with this, how to deal with this...
A bonfire would be best, but it's not all mine, some of this belongs to - well, other people. But - after a night of brooding I simply begin, ripping up old letters, shredding them, they are of no interest to anyone but me and it's been a long time since I looked back, I'm not starting now. And the photos - many, just the tacky tourist photos, a few are good, many of me aren't, of my friends, most of whom the children don't know, will never, and so it's get the scissors, snip, snip, 2000 photos down to perhaps a dozen, how we edit history, pruning it to suit our needs, and I know I've not been the only one. This is a luxury few people get, and I should be taking advantage...