(no subject)
I found the fairy joural today. The first entry is dated 2-20-02. How fucking scary is that?
I used to carry that thing around with me everywhere... I practically never wrote in it, compared with how much I carried it. Little bits of angst poem (don't laugh, I was a troubled sixth grader) and letters to myself regarding bits of story i was supposed to do things with.
I used initials for tentative titles I can't remember, and some I can. The first story I ever got serious about is mentioned, although by then it was about a year old. And I still have the characters to this day! (Nathan and Lauren- the first, and therefore boring, names, but I'm attached to them now. Call it sentimental value. Hey, at least I dtitched Christiana. But Nathan's dad's girlfriend Ansely- the "corporate love slave"- is relatively new in the scope of the story- only fifteen months old) But, of course, much, much, MUCH improved from those days, when the switching narrative and prophetic dreams were new toys to play with, and much, much overused. It gives me a headache thinking about it.
There's the entry with the poem about the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera- it borders on plagiarism, but, oddly enough, not from the musical. The page with my eighth grade semi-mentor. And there's the entry where I kept my aol password where I first got this account. How terrifying.
Actually, this whole book is terrifying. It reminds me. How the hell did I survive that year? I wouldn't now, that's for sure. All that shit I coped with by overeating and crying myself to sleep over? Hell, I'm too close to that sort of behavior NOW, without any melodrama like back then.
So what began as bizarr-o nostalgia ends with yet another one of my copious thank-yous for being my supportive friends, without whom I'd've died long ago.
In other news, HAPPY RENT'S ON DVD DAY!
I used to carry that thing around with me everywhere... I practically never wrote in it, compared with how much I carried it. Little bits of angst poem (don't laugh, I was a troubled sixth grader) and letters to myself regarding bits of story i was supposed to do things with.
I used initials for tentative titles I can't remember, and some I can. The first story I ever got serious about is mentioned, although by then it was about a year old. And I still have the characters to this day! (Nathan and Lauren- the first, and therefore boring, names, but I'm attached to them now. Call it sentimental value. Hey, at least I dtitched Christiana. But Nathan's dad's girlfriend Ansely- the "corporate love slave"- is relatively new in the scope of the story- only fifteen months old) But, of course, much, much, MUCH improved from those days, when the switching narrative and prophetic dreams were new toys to play with, and much, much overused. It gives me a headache thinking about it.
There's the entry with the poem about the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera- it borders on plagiarism, but, oddly enough, not from the musical. The page with my eighth grade semi-mentor. And there's the entry where I kept my aol password where I first got this account. How terrifying.
Actually, this whole book is terrifying. It reminds me. How the hell did I survive that year? I wouldn't now, that's for sure. All that shit I coped with by overeating and crying myself to sleep over? Hell, I'm too close to that sort of behavior NOW, without any melodrama like back then.
So what began as bizarr-o nostalgia ends with yet another one of my copious thank-yous for being my supportive friends, without whom I'd've died long ago.
In other news, HAPPY RENT'S ON DVD DAY!