My teen-angst bullshit has a body count

The past can be very dangerous if you let it; or very funny. I'm at home tonight, bored, lonely, a little drunk on too much wine, now moving on to whisky, hoping to become much more drunk. Listening to Slowdive way too loud (am I in a Gregg Araki movie right now?). So, I started going through the junk drawer in my dresser and came across an old journal I started keeping, I would say, probably right before I moved to Austin when I was 21. None of the entries are dated, but I vaguely recall actually writing some of them. Anyway, it's been quite the trip down Memory Lane. I was so emotional (was....) and totally hung up on a friend of mine from college, and, as I note in the journal, apparently had been for the entire 3 years prior and thought my world was ending because he just had so many girlfriends. Even though I also had a boyfriend at the time, this guy ruled my world. It's so hard to think back on that now. I've been in very sporadic and superficial contact with said boy over the past few years, and it's hilarious to think back on how obsessed over him I was! Kind of puts things in perspective, I guess.

The journal is also full of lots of wonderful poems I wrote back then (Jesus, I was angry!) about being heartbroken, detesting "punk rock boys" and their $80 pants and their stupid music and their girlfriends and how fake they all are, and how in love with all of them I am (among various other topics). I would never in a million years share those poems with anyone, but I picked out the least embarrasing one, and decided that in the interest of repaying my loyal readers, I would post it here for you all to get a good chuckle. But brace yourself, because it's hilarious (and keep in mind that this is the only one I would even consider sharing. Enjoy!

Coins in my hand
ultimately mean nothing,
but flesh against flesh
Sudden shock and
disgusted stares.
Take it again and just hold it there forever.
Who cares what these people think?
Tonight it's just us
and this metal machine.
Songs on the radio,
and we're lost in the moment.
Was there a moment?
I think I just lost it.
A piercing thought,
a brief grope,
a slamming of doors,
and I'm back where I started.
Hunks of metal,
houses on stilts,
one more cigarette for the night.
Decaying lungs mean nothing to me
I can't breathe as it is.
The breeze blows
voices drift
and I wonder
who's really happier.
I need to sleep,
but I don't care.
Wandering beats,
more alcohol,
more consumption
and you'll be happier
more creative
and more...
in the moment.
Here and now.
The future is long
and the past
is meaningless.

Isn't that the best?!?? I think my favorite part is where I say, "we're lost in the moment, was there a moment?" I love it.