This gentleman (I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt!) kept a journal from May 1965 to Sep 1966. He shares what it means to keep a diary.. and the disconance between his memories & the entries in the diary:
the entries in journal and my memories didn’t much resemble each other, except in flashes and images–still frames with fuzzy edges. Dark stuff, with no context. I was unable to read it in one sitting, and even then I had to go back over certain areas a few times to make myself focus. I am no longer simply the kid who wrote those things, did those things. I am that person with years, layers of experience and judgement added to the mix. Something like looking into the mirror, but your image doesn’t behave the way you’d like it to behave. Anyhow, my memory needed to be tweaked, and I’m glad I did it.