So I was going through some old papers today and I found something remarkably awful: Angsty teenage poetry! I’m guessing I must have written it when I was about seventeen, give or take. And because I didn’t get any blog post written today (and I’m feeling a bit cruel) I’m going to share it with you. Flee while you still can!

“Confusion (The Self)”

What is this place?
Who are these people?
I know all their faces
know the sound of each voice
I know all their memories
every thought, every choice
I remember the touch
of their skin and their hair
it’s all so familiar
but when was I there?
I savor the flavor
of their blood, sweat and tears
I’m tasting their souls
all their hopes, all their fears
I love them all dearly
this alien flight
can’t wait to kill them as
we make love tonight
is this my mind, my soul,
or some rampant dimension of the self?
is this me?
what am I?

Yes folks, that’s the real deal there. I don’t remember writing that and I have no idea what was going on at the time. But I’m sure whatever it was I was dramatic about it.

Anyway, that’s all for tonight. Hopefully I’ll have something new for you tomorrow.