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Of Tears And Agony And STFU

I made it to Texas yesterday!  I'm officially a Friscan Friscoese Friscoian resident of Frisco!  And I still have so many boxes to unpack that I want to throw up! 

But, oh, what fun it is to unpack a box that you haven't opened in nearly 15 years.  One of my favorite finds was a notebook of some of my old writing.  Though, by "favorite find" I mean "thing that made me gag the most violently".  And, of course, by "my old writing" I mean "incoherent blatherings from a self-obsessed, 17-year-old, whine tit."

So, in the name of Cringe, let's take a gander, shall we?

"Some try to cover up love with words or actions, thoughtless and useless alibis. In their hearts, though, they know they will never quiet the melodies of devotion. Try though they will, it will not cease. Reality, a strong word."

Um.  Whut?  Yeah...that totally made sense. Please take a moment to roll your eyes.

"I cry desolate tears in my sleep. I refuse to shed them for you, though. They are only for my own gain. I have once again put myself through the agony of deception."

Egads. I wonder if I was wearing black nail polish and cutting myself with razorblades when I wrote this? Desolate tears?  le sigh!

"It is no longer up to me to choose the winding path of my life. Only destiny is involved in deciding which road I am led down. A tight noose will be affixed around my soul, escorting me to whatever fate I run into. I will obediently follow because I give up on my own decisions. I have wronged myself enough in this life."

Errrrrrruh. Seriously. Please excuse me while I go vomit on myself in the corner.  I was SO totally Emo before Emo was invented!  I'm surprised my parents didn't just murder me right then and there. 

Okie dokie. I have to go now because there's a certain box that needs a LOT of tape put back on it.  Hopefully I put enough on that I can't open it for another 15 years, when I have a kid who is whining about not feeling loved and I can whip this out and say 'you think you have it bad?! I WAS CRYING DESOLATE TEARS FOR GOD'S SAKE!!'

January 10, 2007 09:53 PM |
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"A tight noose will be affixed around my soul" Tell me the truth. You're really Morrissey, aren't you? ;)
Posted by jozet at January 10, 2007 11:29 PM

I don't know - I think I see a song in the making. Maybe Avril Lavigne could sing it - Tight Noose.
Posted by jenny at January 11, 2007 08:09 AM

Isn't it funny how we used to think using big fancy words equaled good writing! Now it's more about sarcasm and wit I think. And self-mockery! I need to dig out my old journals and see if I was crying any desolate tears.
Posted by doahleigh at January 11, 2007 09:36 AM

Lord, that is truly...um...yeah. Sounds a lot like my early journalistic writing where I tried to be all cryptic and deep but it all reads now like some Hallmark cards from Hell.
Posted by Karl at January 11, 2007 10:37 AM

Well, you can never say that you lacked a flair for the dramatic! I tossed all my old teen diaries when I grew up to be 18 or so...it makes me so mad to think of it.
Posted by Suebob at January 11, 2007 11:15 AM

Here's the beginning of a poem I wrote - age 15: "An attempt has been made to abort my brain and our chances of success in the revolution. An attempt has been made to conceal my pride - in myself - in my solution." This from a Catholic school girl. I wrote a lot of crazy stuff back then.
Posted by jali at January 11, 2007 02:38 PM

Here's the beginning of a poem I wrote - age 15: "An attempt has been made to abort my brain and our chances of success in the revolution. An attempt has been made to conceal my pride - in myself - in my solution." This from a Catholic school girl. I wrote a lot of crazy stuff back then.
Posted by jali at January 11, 2007 02:39 PM

I also threw out all my old journals, which were full of "poems" about how misunderstood I was. Boo hoo, blah blah blah. So, did you end up obediently following the tight noose? (Hee hee!)
Posted by Elizabeth at January 11, 2007 07:25 PM

You were reading a lot of harlequin historicals, weren't you?.... I am SO glad I don't have any of my journals from those years.... SOOOOO glad!!
Posted by adena at January 11, 2007 07:43 PM

OMG! You were a totally 17 yr old whine tit! Kidding. I think the writing is great, though. Seriously. Very deep.
Posted by Celise at January 11, 2007 07:48 PM

Chase, congrats on the move. I moved my journals covering roughly the same period in my life one too many times. My box looked just like yours. Before I moved to Canada (now back in God's Country = CA) I spent a night home alone in front of the fire place, revisited them, kept a couple of photos and burned the lot. It just felt so right. I would never want to relive those years again, nor would I want anyone else reading them.
Posted by Teri at January 12, 2007 11:35 AM

Good luck with the unpacking! I hope the noose around your soul has loosened and also that your back is feeling better.
Posted by TB at January 12, 2007 01:03 PM

Congrats on making it to Texas before the horrible ice storm hit. Perhaps Oklahoma is crying desolate tears from losing you? As for bad teen writing I have one word for you, and then I shall never speak of it again. Haiku. Seriously.
Posted by francesdanger at January 12, 2007 06:07 PM

I would try to find my own stuff for Cringe but I know for a fact that one of the entries includes a diatribe about Wendy, the girl who TOUCHED MY BUGLES AT LUNCH aka "Devastation of A Ten Year Old" and I just can't handle that. Do you think I would cry, too? At the sheer genius of it all? Congrats on being in Frisco, girly! Looks like you maaaaadde it.... (You're welcome for that. Singing Manilow now, aren't you?)
Posted by Mocha at January 12, 2007 06:40 PM

Hilarious. I have similar rantings with tons of adverbs that don't fit into what I was trying to say.
Posted by Divine Calm at January 14, 2007 10:31 AM

Did your desolate tears ever pool up into a Lake of Despair? Because when that happens, things are getting REALLY bad. ;) Seriously, though, that's not nearly as bad as the short stories I found tucked away in my closet a few years ago. They all either ripped off Tron or The Princess Bride. So sad.
Posted by Jess at January 15, 2007 12:52 PM

You said: I'm surprised my parents didn't just murder me right then and there. Hell no! They were waiting to see if you'd do it yourself! Fewer questions when the police arrive, and all that. It's a parent-of-teenagers thing. Re-post this in 6 years and I'll let you know if it's generational!
Posted by Beth at January 17, 2007 02:06 AM