A friend of mine, my first girlfriend actually, set me some of my old stories and poems. A was a sick little puppy to say the least. Here is something I wrote in 90. I looked through my old shoe boxes today with all my old photos and misc. writings. Fitting that's it during a time that is really difficult. It felt good. It also felt horrible. Letting go of people in my past. Memories of good times and bad. I guess I'm feeling a little older. I'm feeling like my youth is fleeting and eventually I will be old. I apologize for my elementary speech but I'm really feeling more than elaborating. This human experience. This looking back. It changes the way we move forward. It's essential. It tells us who we are and how we came to be that way. This shit is fucked up. My mind and the way I thought. Holy shit.
1990'(exactly how I wrote it)
Hi, how are you doing I'm not doing so good. I think I am going to kill myself. I do believe that I am going to torture myself first though. I want to feel the pain of m arm being stretched until has popped out of it's socket. I believe that I create the pain then I can ignore it. I am going to cut off my eyelids. I will then swallow them. When I throw them up I will stick pins in them and poke them back on. When I start bleeding I will the blodd run down my face into my mouth. I will then stick my fingers inside a clamp and cut into the bone in my arm. I will then get to the highest place I can and jump and land on my feet. When my legs snap like toothpicks I will sand my legs with a steel file until they bleed. With my one movable arm I will pour salt onto all my cuts and then pry them apart until all the salt is devoured into my skin and when it does it will turn red, blood red. I will then laugh at the excruciating pain. Then I will pull myself out into the road where my body will be run over until there is nothing left. I will then be happy because I am dead and no one person can cure me.
(I was a pretty happy 13-year-old I guess)
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