I am going through the detritus of my life. There are times in one’s life when death seems very close and I feel like a squirrel in fall, a sense of urgency and a need to prepare. Wallowing in my past and finding it hard to let go. As I sift through all the mind fodder I have accumulated in a long life of hoarding information that pleased me, I am conscious of the knowledge that there really is no point to sorting and shredding and keeping the choice bits. There will be no one interested in a single line I have saved. Every file will be thrown out as is, unread, and for that I feel sad. I do not want company now..I am not lonely. I feel no need to pin people down to share my interests. But, in my heart, selfishly I imagine someone taking the time to pick through my treasures to somehow get to see me as I really was/am. The truth is, going through my files, reading my journals and browsing all my bookcases is the only way because I live almost solely in my own head. On paper I wear no masks.