Hello readers! :) I have been going through some of my old things and came across my old journals from middle and high school. I went looking for these journals after starting to keep a new one. I only write in my current one when I feel the need, which was basically how I kept them back in the day. Oh man, going through them made me laugh and want to give myself a hug at how much of an angsty, emotional preteen and teenager I was back then. So, apart from my usual posts on sexually related topics, I have decided to post little snippets from my old journals for a good laugh or pick me up, if your day is not going well or you need to take your mind off of things bothering you.
Tonight, I am going to start at the beginning. Each of my journals were 70 sheet college ruled, 1 subject notebooks and on each cover I always wrote Property Of: Emily Hamm. Tonight I bring you selections from "Property Of: Emily Hamm, Part I", which were written between August - November of 2003.
To put all of this into perspective, I was 13 years old at the time and this would have been during the first half of my eighth grade school year. My last year in middle school. At this point in my life I had a knack for poetry...Looking back, I think my poetry is pretty bad, but I'll let you be the judge. Here are some of the things I wrote back in 2003. Enjoy, haha!
My friends and I liked to doodle A LOT in middle school so half of my first journal are these little sketches with commentary, so I will give you the commentary.
Page 1: [picture of sperm with eyes and a mouth with a tongue hanging out] Mr. Nasty. Our Friend Mr. Nasty. Don't let him visit!
Page 2: [picture of an egg with eyes and lips] Ms. Goody. Our Friend Ms. Goody. [smaller picture of Mr. Nasty] He visited her.
Page 3: Mr. Nasty + Ms. Goody = This. Little Weeny. [picture of a fetus in the womb with the umbilical cord]
Page 4: Mr. Weed who does the deed. [picture of a frog] Mr. Crack [picture of a frog with bloodshot eyes]
Page 5: [picture of a worm with eyelashes] Mrs. Gut who looks like a nut. Isn't she hot? She is a Dick Chaney fan. [picture of a cock-eyed three leaf clover] Blind Luck. [random chubby mouse with long tail is also pictured]
Page 7: [picture of a dog in a dress and heels with a hot cup of coffee that says on the mug "coffee makes me sick"] hehehe. Ms. Slut have a cup of her. [picture of Ms. Slut naked with her six nipples showing] These are her tits.
Now for some poetry, grab your hot tea or coffee and put on some jazz music because this stuff is pretty thought provoking.
Look Undercover
I have no life and the life I live is no life to have.
I am nice and sweet and petite and I don't understand why they say I'm mean.
I don't always mean what I mean.
My life is a drag and I don't like to brag,
it is such a boring life.
Well I can see that no one sees who the real me can truly be,
because they look at the cover,
and not undercover.
If they did, they'd really see who the real me can be!
How Can It Be?
How can it be that the sun isn't shining down on me,
That the waves won't crash underneath my feet,
that the rain won't fall at all,
that the ground will shake and hallucinate,
and I won't live at all?
Roller Coaster of Life
The sky is blue.
The grass is green.
Everything is perfect, except me.
Everything around me is happy and cheerful,
but all I feel is a little more insecure.
This is no way to live my life.
On the grid it is marked 1,
as in the lowest you could ever drop before dying.
So I live my life with the highest hope,
and scream out loud on my roller coaster of life.
What Is?
What is worth seeing,
is seeing worth knowing?
Do you know, do you know,
which way do you go?
What is the deal,
if the deal is what?
I'm Gone
I'm depressed and stressed,
and over the limit.
Alcohol sounds good
right this minute.
Instead I'll just eat some bread,
and cry until my head
starts to hurt.
Maybe I'll call Curt
and give him the word.
I'm gone!
Out
I'm zoned out,
I'm proned to be out.
Out of this job
and off of this earth.
Onto a place greater than the Great Lakes,
heaven.
Love
U throw dirt up in my face.
I hate that you discriminate!
U only think about the color
and never under.
U make me scream.
I can't dream.
So why do I feel the love?
This will be the last one for tonight from this journal and I think I must have been hungry when I wrote this little diddy...
Food
Hot and spicy
and full of life.
Cooked to a simmer
and burnt to a crisp.
Nothing would tempt me
more to resist.
The pan is hot,
the water is cool,
What am I?
I'm food!
