Throwback
It's funny, one of my friends found the link to this old Livejournal about a week ago. I spent what felt like an entire afternoon combing through all the old private posts (can you believe I ACTUALLY remembered the password?). Like a time capsule or a letter written to yourself waiting to be opened until you reach that famed "adult hood" this online journal is a chronicle of my adolescence. There were a lot of firsts typed in here and a few things I couldn't even remember.
Reading it also made me wistful. I used to have a voice that screamed from rooftops and with age I've gotten a bit meeker. It has served as a reminder to act more like myself, to remember I have something (or many things) to say. The idea of keeping this journal and continuing to update has been an idea I've been toying with. I've missed writing and like a muscle that hasn't been used my skills have gotten weak from being ignored. It's also comfortable to keep an online journal that only one person knows the link to. I doubt she'll check to see if I've updated regardless. In any case she's one of the only people, if not the only person, who knows my scars and secrets better than I do.
I still battle darkness that tries to pull me down. I still hate what I see when I look in the mirror. After all these years, some things never change. If anything the voices have gotten louder. I've just found better ways to hide it. Music is still the blood in my veins and the air in my lungs. I still quote lyrics endlessly and read Chuck Palahniuk books all the time. My copy of "Invisible Monsters" is battered and falling apart now.
Reminds me of someone I know.
Are you at all haunted by memories past?
Are you ready to make this one breath your last?
Is your chest so heavy you're ready to leave?
Or are you just hoping that someone will grieve?
Reading it also made me wistful. I used to have a voice that screamed from rooftops and with age I've gotten a bit meeker. It has served as a reminder to act more like myself, to remember I have something (or many things) to say. The idea of keeping this journal and continuing to update has been an idea I've been toying with. I've missed writing and like a muscle that hasn't been used my skills have gotten weak from being ignored. It's also comfortable to keep an online journal that only one person knows the link to. I doubt she'll check to see if I've updated regardless. In any case she's one of the only people, if not the only person, who knows my scars and secrets better than I do.
I still battle darkness that tries to pull me down. I still hate what I see when I look in the mirror. After all these years, some things never change. If anything the voices have gotten louder. I've just found better ways to hide it. Music is still the blood in my veins and the air in my lungs. I still quote lyrics endlessly and read Chuck Palahniuk books all the time. My copy of "Invisible Monsters" is battered and falling apart now.
Reminds me of someone I know.
Are you at all haunted by memories past?
Are you ready to make this one breath your last?
Is your chest so heavy you're ready to leave?
Or are you just hoping that someone will grieve?