It's pretty incredible to have fifteen years of thoughts bound and kept upon a shelf, isn't it? Were you in the regrettable position to have only a moment to rescue one armful of personal possessions, would it be these journals?
Weird, JP. I actually WAS in that position. I lost my home and belongings - mementos, photos, furniture, clothing, everything - in a flood resulting from Hurricane Floyd in 1999. I rescued my journals and my cat. One journal was left behind because it was out of sight under a nightstand. Soaked and contaminated by floodwater, my mother dried, disinfected and photocopied every page. She rebound it. It's the brown one on the far right. Most of the poems are unreadable because the ink bled so badly, but it was my first journal, so it's the one I cherish most.