A couple of years ago, Planbreaker delighted in reading some letters that I had written to her in 1996. Apparently, I was a big fan of using the phrase "I tells ya" when I was 23. Ouch. There is no excuse for that, no matter what the age.
I'm old, jaded, and cynical now. But there was once a day when I enjoyed talking on the phone and writing letters. There was a day when I was young and impressionable. There was a day when I kept a journal and read it to whoever happened to be passing by. I wanted to be heard, damnit.
I kept a journal on a fairly consistent basis from January, 1993 when I was obsessed with a certain JMU girl who shared my love of R.E.M. all the way until May, 2000 when I started dating someone (not Youthlarge) who had admitted that she had read her previous boyfriend's journal in an attempt to find out why things weren't so good between them anymore. I was afraid she'd read my journal if things started getting bad. I also had grown tired of my journal anyway. My journal writing had turned from an attempt to work through my feelings to a simple list of the recent things I had done. So I stopped writing in it.
But after trolling down memory lane with yesterday's post, I grew curious. How silly would these old entries be? I have no desire to delve into the hundreds of pages of my twentysomething psyche. But I couldn't resist the temptation to look through at least a couple of them.
Here are a few selected highlights of my first and last entries-- massively edited to protect the innocent and at least part of my already tattered reputation.
Sun 1/17/93 2:07 a.m.
O.K. so maybe I am fucked. ... O.K. to set the mood - I'm now listening to Automatic for the People. Knowing me this will be my first and last entry. I just talked to Janel for 45 minutes about life, love, and the whole P---- mess. ... Excuse me if this doesn't make complete linear sense but I am very tired and not entirely sober. My feelings for her are very strong. It's too bad that I wasn't writing a diary when I was obsessed with J---- or E----. I would have been saying the same things. Things change. A year from now will I even be friends with P----? I think and hope so but who the fuck knows? ... Anyway, I'm very tired - I'm going to finish the R.E.M. article in Details and then doze to the sounds of Stipe. Should I go see him tomorrow at the Lincoln Memorial? Nah - Football's on. Everybody hurts. Yeah Yeah, Blah Blah Blah. Maybe I'll write again, but don't count on it.
My last entry was on May 8, 2000. The first line was "Cutie on a bicycle across from me on the subway as I write" and my very last line was "New York City!"