I used to love to write… I remember that I was published in 7th grade, because a writer in residence came to the school, and he liked my poem about stars. Everyone in my family jumped on me, like I was God because I had been published. That poem is so stupid… and yet it still graces the walls of my parents homes.
Now, I only want to write for myself. And they all sound so trivial when I’m at a good point in my life. Like you, some of my best poems came from when I was trying to find myself, after high school… I’m still pissed that I allowed myself to throw them away though.
Wii’s are overrated. They’re fun, but not *cool.* And now that we own a home, I want it to look like a home when people come over, rather than just a mess of shit all over the place like it is now. Yay for coffee tables, lol!
Russell.
Carnap.
Epicurus.
Plato.
Popper.
Freud.
Comments (1)
I used to love to write… I remember that I was published in 7th grade, because a writer in residence came to the school, and he liked my poem about stars. Everyone in my family jumped on me, like I was God because I had been published. That poem is so stupid… and yet it still graces the walls of my parents homes.
Now, I only want to write for myself. And they all sound so trivial when I’m at a good point in my life. Like you, some of my best poems came from when I was trying to find myself, after high school… I’m still pissed that I allowed myself to throw them away though.
Wii’s are overrated. They’re fun, but not *cool.* And now that we own a home, I want it to look like a home when people come over, rather than just a mess of shit all over the place like it is now. Yay for coffee tables, lol!