Little green book.

Heh. I found it. I thought I had lost it forever and for a while, I felt a bit annoyed at myself. But then again, I'm not the type who dwells in nostalgia. So I shrugged the loss off. My reliance on sheer neuron power for such tasks will probably take a toll in the future, especially when I'm required to reproduce parts of my life and I have no artifacts to jog the memory or to prove anything I say. But thats a worry for when I'm 60.

Anyways, I found the book. When I first started writing it, I told myself that I'd probably look back at the stuff I wrote and laugh. I was right. Partially. If that book had remained lost for a longer time, and then showed itself, say 5 years from now, my assumption would probably be true. But I guess looking at it now could only result in me smiling a crooked smile and feigning indifference, even if I have no audience. Fooling one's self is a complicated process, and if I can't even fool those around me, then there is no point even trying.

Burning the book is an interesting option, though one that I would probably regret at some point. Plus, its Earth day. No point in any unnecessary burning.

So it remains on the shelf. There is a half-hearted attempt at preventing trespassing, in the form of a written warning on the inside of the cover. That warning is pretty pointless now. The stuff in there will probably make anyone puke after reading 3 lines anyway.