the time travel/ an exploration of a distant mind.
maybe the bottom line is that i just wanted to feel normal. think that maybe my worst fears are there's as well. and we are all connected on some level. it never happened. no one ever left their journal. and even if i did find one i don't know if i would have had enough guts to read it, because i know how violated i would feel knowing someone read one of mine.
it is apart of me. i would feel violated, hurt, as if my words held no more weight. which always brought me to the question, what should i do with all the journals in my life. should i burn them? should i put them into a capsule that should not be opened for at least 100 years after my death (that way no one can see how human i really am).
while in houston the other day i stumbled into a used book store. it was much like any other used book store in that it had the decomposing paper smell, and an elderly man behind the counter. i found it odd that no music was playing in the background. maybe he liked it that way, music seems to be everywhere. but the man had a content look on his face staring into the near distance.
i wondered through the store, i had a bit of time to kill so i wondered through each and every section mentally taking notes as to what books in this building i would like in my library someday. i especially like books on travel to places i have never been, i love black and white photography books, because i end up cutting them up and taping them into my journal. history, science, math, psychology, they were all there. after about an hour of browsing i came upon a lone glass case. inside was one book, with no title, no author, no date. it was an ash grey and looked like the edges had been dragged on the concrete.
there was no key in the lock and my curiosity got the best of me. i asked the elderly man what was in the case, his curiosity was also peaked because he had no idea what the book was since his wife owned the store.
as he pulled out the book i noticed the plastic engagement was perfectly taped as if the book store owner knew this was some sort of treasure.
the man set it on the front counter and let me open it. as i began to open it up slowly i open realized the paper was flaking in certain areas and felt very fine and old. as i opened it to the first page the first thing i noticed was the beautiful calligraphy used. the ink would start very dark and as the words continued it would fade and then dark once again.
the opening line was a mistake, because he tried to cross it out.
"spring is my favorite season, as if the whole world is again coming alive."
what was this?
then the second page said
the diary of jonathan jones
december 23 1848.
i had found a treasure, and after an exchange of minimal currency (as compared to what i thought it would be worth) i was walking out of the used book store with thoughts, dates, and a distant time i myself could never physically experience, but was about to time travel to.
i have read almost half and can not tell you how my heart has raced more than once. he is an amazing man from north dublin (either in georgia or california) i am not certain yet. he writes every day of the week, moment, hour, & month in every entry. he is so very concerned with time. i am not going to say he loves death but he is so very intrigued. he believes in God ("thanks to the divine being for his infinite mercy and goodness") and his country. and his wife often gets sick. he claims he is poor but i don't believe he is, i think he runs a mill and hints to the fact he has hired several servants. there is so much more, i wish you could read it alongside of me.
i have stumbled into the past, and figured so much about the present state of humanity. though we may not have existed then our humanity sees no time, survival knows no distance, love & friendship surpasses what we have or will ever experience. of course we feel we know this, but i have never read the manuscript of thoughts. we can read history books but never have i read the thoughts behind the history.
i admire the strength of jonathan jones, he is an upright man who is concerned with more than just himself in life.
i wonder what others will read in my journal someday. will i be strong, or caring? or will i just testify that humanity does not see or feel time or space. i hope so.
what will others read about you one day?