Composition Books

As per usual I have taken a leisurely attitude toward posting regularly. I am not too worried about it nowadays and figure writing happens, just like shit, so no major worries on when. It comes out in the end (ba-dum-BUM!).

Hell, the only real reason I am getting my prose-based ducks all lined up is because a good friend reminded me what fun blogging can be again. And I ain't knocking all the talented people who I have on my blogroll and beyond that post almost everyday, but let's face facts: I don't know you. I know the internet you and that is all there is. It is different to have a physical being you love to get drinks with and talk till all hours, etc. that is also a blogger. You can check her out here: Happy Formula

It is not to say that I haven't been writing copious amounts of drivel like my more hefty posting months imply I am capable of. I just haven't been writing it down. It is a very weird habit I have of being out somewhere and composing a full, edited post in my mind (even with breaks for the pictures I think I would want) and then never revisiting it again. I go to the extreme of picturing the blogspot layout preview page as I "type." In my imagination. Yeah...

And then there is the stuff that I have written down on paper and it sure as shit isn't getting posted here. Which may beg the question "really? you have been holding back about stuff? Cuz I am pretty sure you have emotionally vomited all over this sucker the whole way through." I hear you, but yes there is plenty that gets edited out. Maybe one day it will find its way, but much of it need time. Distance, perspective and all that thoughtful shit.

But I want to keep this interesting so I am going to scan some pages from my old composition books from college. They are self-indulgent ramblings, so not far off from everything else I have written before and since.

Here is one cover in all its beauty:

And here is a page. Fucking upside down. Hey, fuck you scanner. When I saved the pic and even adjusted the Gamma and Saturation and Sepia I apparently could not figure out how to rotate it and keep it that way. Suck a nut, scanner.

Translated is reads:

words we like & what they mean

hedonistic: pleasure seeking

analogous; similar in certain respects

indemnify: compensate

sophistry: deceptive, false arguments

immutable: unchangeable

chimera: fantasy

I subscribed to the royal "We" even back then. Good to know. Next:

And translated it reads:

there's a silk shirt i know

that lures me close, but i am

not sure why

i sit and watch and listen a bit

more absorbing and

w/ it all comes what!?

i need a good rattle

i need a good shake

i need you to come over

and breath me awake

what is it that is not filled in

there is a color that is

missing

some caress i crave that i

cannot have

because laws and mores

and folkways forbid

and the song i love he is starting

to play.

as though he knows my quiet

smile was telling him so

What makes me laugh the most (out of the numerous embarrassingly available options presented) is my favorite part is the bit that rhymes and bounces along all cadence-conscious.

Oh, that and I apparently did not believe in punctuation, had crushes on men in silk shirts (really? I am blushing right now), and was a horndog back then too who liked to use her psychology and sociology terms in tangential ramblings. Of course in the end I like that part of me a smidge. She wasn't so bad, though the writing leaves much to be desired. I can look back at all the pages and know that as plodding, clumsy and word drunk I may have been, I meant it all, word by word.

Just as I clearly meant everything implied in this picture from those same days: