h1

self-sacrifice

December 9, 2006

Here is a fun article about teenage angst, organized into a collected work, then progressed into a stage work. So, to offer my bit into the midst, here is a piece I wrote back in the 9th grade. Back when I worked really hard to be profound:

Oh, Really?, 3-27-99

Whatever you do, do not act. Don’t dance, don’t play, don’t talk, don’t climb, don’t sing, don’t worry, Don’t DO anything. When someone asks wha you did, don’t say, “I danced, I played, I talked, I climbed, I sang, I worried, I did something.” Instead, answer like this: “I was dancing. I am playing. I will be talking. I could be climbing. I should be singing. I can be worrying. I would be doing something.”

The best you can do are 3 things: I was, I am, I will be.

 {fin}

Holy. Mother. Mary. Why didn’t someone stop me?

From now on, when I post a poem or something like it, someone tell me not to. Ugh, clutch chest.

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5 comments

  1. It would be ok as a final or opening paragraph in something much bigger and more developed. Says the man hanging upside down from a tree.


  2. You know what though? That whole vibe is the memory I have from you from the early days of knowing you then.

    Um, take that either way.


  3. Oh, now, COME ON! You were in NINTH GRADE! This is excellent work for a ninth grader – cut the kid some slack!


  4. But its so bad! And this isn’t the worst, by far…


  5. That’s damn good compared to my grade nine poetry.



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