A recent conversation led me to look up an old blog. We didn’t even call it “blog” back then, more like journal or diary. I had to look through the archives since I’ve long abandoned this site.
As I read through the opening entries I wasn’t too sure if this was the right journal. It had words like “cunctation and somnolent” I would’ve never thought to use those 50 cent words unless Microsoft thesaurus recognized them, and it doesn’t.
Then, when this came up I knew it was me ...
I loved listening to the Beatles on my way to work (still do) and I referred to my first car (Nissan NX) as a being. He even had a name…“I Drove off with John, Paul, George
and Ringo this
morning. I was trying to beat 7:10, its
Tuesday, supervision again. At the
same time I was hoping that NX
wouldn't have the audacity to screw up this time… been' cranky lately”
As I read on, I laughed about my grievances and objections that came with adolescence. Although I seldom swore, I was quite a potty writer and said weird things like “obey the cow god and goodnight moon.”
I’ve forgotten that I also had “in the depths of despair” phase and found some entries quite alarming…
I need to stultify and dampen certain senses.I'll probably fall into a stupor, have
convulsions, and even slip into a coma.But it’ll leave me less aware and
alert... and that's just perfect.
If I had a Gun, Id shoot
whoever said writing downthe Pros and Cons of a situation would
I lost sight. No ones there.
The idea of Anguish.
From anguish to outrage.
Rue. I hate you… but despise myself more.
From a distance
her smile signifies content
she hides behind that fair facade
Then of course entries about love lost and love found made me smile
I just drove. I kept reminding myself
about the promise I made.But there was this deep-hollow feeling
that just tore me apart.I tried to keep an optimistic
expression…but I could just feel my tears
gradually flow..So, I tried to keep my eyes and mind on
the road…yet I could solely feel your gaze.I wanted to hold you so bad and tell
you not to...
The boy- just like some,
he'll have to go.And just like the others, the reasons were
clearly set.But unlike the others, a light of hope has
been lit...I don't know if I should blow it or let it
flicker until it flickers no more.Yet the memory remains of "Velma and Darthvelma"and the little sand prince whom she loved
But I knew I wasn’t such an unhappy and desperate kid because of entries like this…
If there was an altoids dance,I’d dance it.
If there was an altoids song, I'd sing it.
Absinthe!!! We have altoids and a
constant supply of King Car.We have Soy Sauce too and some
Breakfast Pocketsthat would last the whole day
I considered the stick as apriceless possessioneven if it implied, "runner 107 was here30 minutes ago.”And for the rest of the day, I ate enough
turkey and pie to last me 'till Christmas......
The thought of me cooking just puts a
silly grin on everyone’s face.I, on the other hand, am very proud of this
achievementdespite the unbearable taste of my
Reading through my entries was like a blast from the past but it also made me realize how much of my life changed and remained the same.
Some things like my addiction to altoids, daily breakfast pockets and calling kids aliens, has changed. But certain things like the Beatles, my passion for teaching, and using my favorite tool, the thesaurus, to make my adventures sound exciting and my confessions moving, remain the same.