Sometimes I daydream about disappearing. Not in a harmful way. Just a “The Leftovers”-esque fade to air particles type of way.
It’s something I’ve been daydreaming about since I was a kid and used to tell no one but my journal. I would “run away” to my parents’ side porch, hide under a pile of heavy blankets and challenge myself to stay there for as long as I possibly could. Long enough to see their reaction, to feel like it mattered that I was gone without really being gone at all.
I’ve been daydreaming about disappearing more and more lately. I’m sure I’m not alone.
I hope it goes without saying I have no real intentions of actually running away but I can’t help but feel that if the world were my old porch blankets they’d be heavy enough to hold many of us down right now. I’ve never had fewer answers to as many questions as I have lately. I’ve been craving somewhere to turn, some sort of relief. I needed some perspective, a voice of reason, the voice of a teenager. A teenage me.
What better way to make you feel like all is right around you than to reminisce about the trivial things that seemed to mean everything to you at another point in time? To read about the situations that crumbled you and then to realize you somehow crawled through the ashes and still remain here, breathing, to this day.
There’s no more personal object in my life, no more meaningful, handheld possession, than my sweet, leather-bound black book. I carefully curated every one of its gorgeously imperfect pages using ONLY black ink, poured my full soul into it, and wet its lines with my tears on more occasions than I can count. Through it I stewed and stirred over situations minute to monumental… but mostly minute.
And so, to feel just a little relief and to share that feeling with you, I relive some of my most expressive lines from entries so incredibly, embarrassingly silly I can’t bear to share them in their entirety.
1.) I’ve Always Been Dramatic
February 14, 2003
Today is a pathetic and disgusting day.
You should know that I quoted Taking Back Sunday in the last line of this entry of heartbreak. I quoted Dashboard Confessional in the entry before this and I feel like that says more than any commentary I could make.
2.) I’ve Always Fought for What I Believe In… Even When It Didn’t REALLY Matter
February 19, 2003
I don’t really have much to say. Got in another argument with a couple I’ve [sic] my friends about lying. I don’t even like writing about that kind of stuff because I realize that it is petty bullshit that I probably won’t remember 10 years down the road—but then again, does ANY of this stuff I write in here REALLY matter?
Well, I was right. 10 years later I definitely do not remember this fight or the friends I was fighting with. But I’m glad I confronted those sneaky liars.
3.) Death Has Always Been My Biggest Fear. And desk-writing.
March 25, 2003
What’s going to happen when I die? Are people going to bring up what was resolved or will they sit at a desk and write about how they actually feel?
I don’t even know what this means.
4.) Cafe Closings Are Soul-Crushing to Me
May 1, 2004
So last night was an ending to an emotional era. Last night was the closing of The Grind. I’m not sure if in 10 years I am going to remember The Grind, especially seeing as I had never written anything about it.
The Grind was this little coffee shop in Denville—but it was MORE than just a coffee shop, with antique couches and live bands. It was one of the most peaceful settings in my world. I liked to think of it as my escape.
In 2003–2004, I was apparently very concerned with what would be happening in 10 years. Now 10+ years later, I’m a little concerned with why I was so concerned. But I do remember The Grind and some vivid memories of being there. It really was a wonderful place.
5.) I Didn’t Think This Whole Internet Writing Thing Was Going to Work Out
July 17, 2004
God bless having a real journal to write in when the day is done. These days it’s all about the “LiveJournals,” which are online diaries that people keep on the computer so that they’re [sic] friends can read how they are feeling at any given time.
I personally don’t believe in it at ALL. It defeats the purpose of writing it if you’re letting everyone read it. I wouldn’t want everyone reading the stories of my personal life.
Anyways, the reason I’m writing right now is actually for a pretty stupid reason…
There are so many reasons to love this entry starting with how much my career has evolved around digital content. But I love this post mostly because I go on to trash the meaninglessness of online journaling only to disclaim that what follows in my written journal is essentially meaningless.
The rest of the entry was all about how I “hate everyone” besides my three best friends.
6.) Age is But a Construct
October 23 (probably 2004)
Someone asked me yesterday if I feel old now that I’m not a teenager anymore. I think that I measure age by the way a person feels and the way they continue to incorporate their youth into their everyday life.
Sometimes I consider myself young because I do that, but other times I feel like I am throwing myself into a life where I am forced to grow up before my time.
Based on this, I can’t decide if I’m currently young or old. I KNOW I am not a teenager anymore.
I will never fully remember the feelings behind these pages, the meaning behind the words, or how deeply I felt the emotions when I wrote them. But there’s something so comforting about visiting where you were, considering where you are, and imagining how much the journey has set you up for where you’re ultimately going.
Today I’m imagining 10 years from now, revisiting these words while stripping heavy blankets off me on my own side porch.