I have a stack of journals hidden away (from me) in a drawer of my desk. The last few weeks I've considered pulling them out and finding a good snippet to republish here. I guess it's just nostalgia. The older entries remind me of Amy's Diary, a true internet classic. I only looked through one of my old journals, and this page jumped out at me.

I'm going to skip this overused subject [lyrics to an old love song covering the top part of the page] and just say that since the last time I saw and talked to Jessica was a year ago at camp, I can only be optimistic about who shows up this year. Writing this is pointless considering I'll never forget somethings. Yesterday I lost Cinemax and HBO to a cable scrambler. It was a great loss, because now you can see or read what I have left to do. I should get a car, so I'd already be at Movies 10 instead of waiting for mom (is that capitalized) to get home so that I can leave to escape to the deep dark void of an empty theatre. If you'd like further commentary on the subject see the second song on the second side of the Hothouse Flowers' Home. I think it's called Movies or something.

I'm babbling now, but I don't feel like it and I just began a new page of regressive behavior. There's nothing on tv, and I can't wait until a couple days have passed and I can relax in the company of friends, trees, and hopefully two loves I haven't seen in a year. Could I choose? That would be like choosing my favorite movie, song, book, or pen. This used to be my playground? Madonna couldn't find my playground if she had the help of a shrink. You know journals reveal alot about people. I wonder what this will reveal ten years from now when i reread. I also wonder what dreams mean. The weirdest dreams come when you fall asleep facing a tv. I had a dream once like that where i was beating a girl up until I took a total change and began kissing her and eventually loved her. I've had ones in school with all age groups of people I know or knew or loved and lost. One day I'll fall into a great and terrible dream or wake up from this one. Pink Floyd goes through my mind like so many subliminal messages ingested by years of listening to music that I love (And I'm not the only one). Looks like I'll miss that movie unless monkeys fly out of my butt and carry me there. I shouldn't jump from subject to subject so abruptly without warning. Warning: writing can expand your mind until you try to comprehend doodles later. Because after all Noids can't have sex with Doodles: It's the oldest and only rule of Cool World. Look it up at your local video store to understand.

Joe Hobson '92

It's funny to me how the voice is so similar. It's me being honest, just for me. It was written on the leftover pages of a journal that i started for a class in eighth grade. By the time i wrote this entry though it was the summer before my junior year of high school, and i was simply writing for me. To pass the time, and to remember the times.

side note, just for fun... that signature next to the heart on the cover? that's Jess...

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2 Comments:

At 8/16/2006 8:26 AM,  my imperfect offering said...

I know you cringe when I say this, but I mean it as the most sincerest of compliments, but...my goodness, you always sound so much older (and wiser) than your years would suggest (an old soul in a young man's body). That is a great journal entry. I guess I was always too paranoid to write such personal thoughts down, fearing that someone would read them. Hmmm. Now that I think about it, I guess I still am. Thanks for sharing this. :)

 

At 8/18/2006 1:09 AM,  joe said...

yep, i'm an old man inside. i figured that one out when i was crippled by arthritis at 17, but that's a story for another time.

 

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