On Vox: The things that have changed..
21歳
When I look, even three months, back on myself I always think about how young I was.
Which means I must still be young. & I'm probably young right now.
I'm pretty sure I'm going to be one of those people that's young for a very long time.
That sounds like a nice thing, but it's not. We'll I guess it is if you're aware of your
suffering &.. like it. I'm not talking about things people talk about when they get all nostalgic
about their youth. Being confused, & happy, fresh tits sitting under your chin, slaying cute girls.
I mean, the crazy, depressing, existential break down, Sylvia Plath about it all.
I'm 21 now & the only thing that has changed about me, from when I was 17, is that
I can keep my mouth shut about things now. & I've gotten so good at pretending that
certain things don't bother me, that they.. don't. But even still, these things have only
happened in the past.. year? Maybe two? But I mean, I can't stay quiet forever.
Every so often I sit down & ramble in a long irritating blog & shrink back down five years..
In related news, I set up my email on my computer to download right to the desk top..
But instead of downloading the newest mail.. it downloaded EVERYTHING.
& I have gmail so I save EVERYTHING. & maybe READING everything is what
triggered this entry.
So many drawnnnn out emails to girls, potential friends. Ex boyfriends/boyfriends inbetween, it's
all the same shit. I re-read some of the stuff I wrote potential new friends & I must be on crack.
It's no wonder I don't hang out with those people today. It's like I have UNSTABLE written on my forehead.
Some of the stuff to the boys wasn't so bad. Some good poetry came out of it.
A lot of it is just me not letting go. Or not realizing that.. "He's just not that into you."
That book is lame. I haven't read it, maybe that's why I got involved with so many manipulating,
sociopathic, peyote-eyed douche bags.. I mean.. Musicians.. maybe Artists?
I guess I just always thought that at my worst, I was at my funniest, you know, that
self-deprecating kind of humor.
If all of my emails were read, out loud, in a REALLY loud voice I think they'd be hilarious;
they're that dramatic.
An example to one of the afore mentioned douche bags when I was, oh 17..18ish:
This is an emergency.
The world is on fire. Call before dawn if your soul stirs then. If not, I wait till Andromeda's fall, again. But tomorrow is the day all is set to happen; with the moon in wax the time has been chosen. But all is not final, & if plans fall through, the stars will laugh. NeverthelessImust- flee with you while we still have these bodies, & this youth. Because time is coming to get us.. &, the discontented. The only form of escape being a slow form of torture as it's forced to watch: us killing it; in for form of:
Reading in a park together on a Sunday?
(Early early early early before the birds! Hurry hurry! They sleep still!)
Maybe your motions contain more meaning for you.
But ultimately this is my own head, so let me day dream.
At the very least.
Also, can I trade books with you?
I finished that South of the Border, West of the sun book. It made me cry.
But what doesn't these days?
It's either really hot, or really cold.
I will never apologise for this!
I'm sorry,
jamie.
Seriously.
..
Do I smoke crack?
Awe.. hell, maybe it was the drugs. But why couldn't I just have been cool & said,
Wanna kill some time this weekend?
Call me if you're not busy.
-j.
Because if I did I wouldn't be me! & I iz good.
FUCK IT ALL.
Doesn't it feel so much better to be free?
Originally posted on lotus.vox.com