i'm back from a miserable 2 days in the middle of nowhere new york reliving my aunts and uncle's childhoods wishing desperately i had a shot gun. While home i found my journal from my senior year - the year i went utterly insane, the good thing is i can actually see how my thought processes were wrong...now. and it makes me a little bit scared i was ever that crazy. i also found the notebook full of poetry and qoutes i wrote while stuck in california for a couple of weeks one summer. Here are a few of my favorite excerpts...

<i> i was only kidding when
i said i loved you.
you weren't looking,
but i had my fingers crossed
behind my back.
whose the fool now? </i>

and this one which i think i've posted before, it actually has a title.

<i> Saturday In The Park

i sit and disguise myself
as a mysterious artist
or an aspiring poet
creating something worthwhile.
But i am just observing
life, as it dances by.

i see a happy couple
come skipping down the path
kissy-faced and holding hands
it wont last long. But they dont
know this. it will end in
heartbreak and heartache,
but i'll let them enjoy their moment.

a happy robbin <mind the grotesque cliche, i was young> catches
my fading attention, her
song brings bliss to my melancholy <i really like the word> ears
she flutters by and a young girl is now in view

<the schematics of that stanza got really fucked up, sorry>

i look at her,
and i can see straigth
into her soul.
her sorrowful eyes depict
why she is alone, and i
feel her pain. her wretched
heart feels there is only
one answer.

<this is where i actually start to like the poem>

i watch, inevitably cursed
to hold my tounge
as she approaches the bridge
in the crystal water
she sees the answer
to all her problems.
and the deeper she looks
the clearer it becomes.

her pockets weighted with
thoughtsof the past
and where she went wrong
force her to strain a little.

she climbs the small rail
on the side of the bridge. <just incase that wasn't clear>
pauses one last time in
retrospection, before leaping
to the calm water.

her heavy thoughts carry
her to the murky bottom,
where in her final moments
life flashes by
and in an instantaneous flash
disapears again, and leaves her
motionless in the murky
depths of all the answers.

i didn't stop her
i had the chance - truth is
she had the strength to do
what i couldn't.
and i saw my pain
disapear with her. </i>

ok, so its a little bit depressing. If my poetry teacher was dead she'd be rolling over in her grave at this point. full of a few cliches, i need to clean it up i think. but i've always really liked that one.

in addition to that i found eleventy-billion unsent letters i had written to different people. so while waiting in the airport i wrote two more. One telling off Charrlene (which my mother talked me out of actually giving her) and one apologizing to Gabe. i'm still not entirely sure he deserves it, but the letter also helps me reconcile a few things about myself (up and coming in the next posted poem).

Tomorrow is a funfilled day of going to the gym (which i haven't done since like June) and work - sadly i miss work - it makes me feel like i serve a purpose (get it SERVE a purpose) anyway, i think i'm funny which means it is time for bed.