Laurel’s Teenage Diary
DON’T READ THIS
I easily pick up other peoples habits
I am afraid to tell people my dreams, in case they never come true.
stop wearing fishnet tights, makes me feel overexposed.
People should always be made to feel accepted and loved, it brings out their best qualities
There is no such thing as foul language.
goal: think about other people more, and myself less.
If, scientifically, all my actions are based on either genetics, the environment I have lived in, or both, then my feel will and self-control is all an illusion. This is scary.
Some people use compliments as a social crutch
Why am I so anti-attachment?
Milk should never ever be served in a plastic bag, nor should it be pink.
I’m a thrill seeker.
I think I might be frightened of intimacy / closeness
Alone is a comfort zone.
People tend to classify girls as either:
good looking, no personality
cool but not cute
I would rather be the latter
(arrow) edit: no. not true. I love the feeling of closeness. almost nothing makes me happier.
I wish I had someone to sleep with every night (not in a sexual way.) Just in a together way. Sleepovers should occur more often.
Wow. people can be so disappointing.
Best & Worst Qualities
thoughtful & introspective
honest & straightforward
negative emotional states
takes everything seriously / personally
doesn’t take himself too seriously
wants me to be happy
makes himself epic
massively generous & unselfish
trys to be 'cutesy', like quirky-cute
loved by all
never says no
intelligent & knowledgable- knows cool shit
cheats on his ladies? (“except me”- LOL)
has built a persona
complete lack of moral compass ('complete lack of moral compass' is crossed out)
super chill- will stay friends with you
believes in ('believes in' is crossed out, and replaced with) LOv3z himself
doesn’t believe in himself
sharp moral compass
be a model
get a prom date
Public macking is tacky. Avoid it in the future.
Avoid public macking with boys who have girlfriends, unless she is me
things I like about myself:
try my best to never hurt people
good at drawing
not afraid / don’t cry
things I dislike about myself:
possibly come across as a huge creep when talking to boys
giggle too much
bad at writing & singing
humming all the time
not attractive- unremarkable hair and face
spent Valentine’s day with Drew at his trailer house drinking orange crush and watching aphex twin vids. held hands. I like his cat. I think he might be gay
I’m talking to 3 boys at once
that’s not very considerate at all
I need to choose either one, or none at all
I really miss physical affection so I should probably choose one
Michael is an amazing person, dear friend, & attractive guy
Drew is cute & different, but he’s 19, smokes a shitton of weed and seems clingy. He lacks self-confidence but has a really cool personality
Tyler just wants some action because I’m cute.
I really owe Michael an answer.
I love being single. It’s fun. I can hook up with whoever. and I end up meeting more people that way.
I should have more confidence- Apparently, I’m "pretty attractive" (two days later thinks I'm the ugliest person in the universe)
fun girl / pretty girl concept / complex
-the reason I’m uncomfortable around Sarah
-our strengths are the opposite
I crave productivity
I am always a minimalist on Sundays
I don’t like my mother.
Me & Jordan are super awkward.
I like being skinny. Get off of my nuts, world.
I don’t like Claire
skipped school to go the abandoned cotton gin with Hannah and write poems in the front seat of the blue truck that’s always out there. found an abandoned cardboard box there with baby shoes and adoption papers and some toys.
Blue Truck Yellow Brick 5-2009
Dusty, silent, enticing
You are just what I needed to retrieve me
from my cynicism
(arrow to blue truck poem) 12-2009
how totally pretentious
things that have Magic:
wheels that spin on their own
pretty antique blue trucks
my head’s an empty echo without you to keep the quietness away
(shit about how much I hate my life)
I AM A HATEFUL, UNLOVABLE WHORE
was going out in a sweater and wig I bought with the money I was making at United (I hate that they are the only people in town that hired me, but it sucks SLIGHTLY less than working at Chick Fil A, and hopefully I can save up some money to get out of town), and my mother told me if “you look like a whore, people will treat you like one”.
sometimes when I stay up too late
I think I’m clever
My neurons seem devoid of activity
but maybe if I write enough
something will still seem meaningful tomorrow
at night my existence seems remarkable
my life shall one day be the subject of a thousand books
somehow, when the brain stops working, the heart steps in,
and the result is usually beautiful, if catastrophic
Laurel gets high-on-marijuana and has visual hallucinations about the material dialectic while making charcoal drawings of trees; calls Sarah to have Sarah talk her down without realizing Sarah's parents require her to take all calls on speakerphone in the living room:
I don’t know what this means but it’s fucking IMPORTANT
some phenomena repeat themselves
this is why we study literature & history
large wholes being divided into infinitely smaller parts while still belonging to a larger and larger wholes
rhythms, pulses, rotations & cycles
it’s surreal, real, and ethereal- spiritual v terrestrial
dimensions, 1st - 4th
authority, control, and servitude,
movement of energy from one entity to another
groupings, clusters, faimlies and classifications
eternal internal spirits with temporary external homes
eyeless in the morning sun you are;
pale and mild, a modern girl
I hate the feeling of blankness and static that has taken residence in my brain. I know full well that that space is reserved for my frantically-firing, manic, and flustered neurons. Where did they go?
I’m awake again
in all senses
Today I cried all the tears
I cried for the future in case I am alone
and for myself because I am
and one tear for everything that was that isn’t
tradition is a painfully heavy weight to bear
I am one who is constantly tempted to throw it aside
knowing you look sexy can be terrifying
I’m now counting years by their numbers rather than by school years
eating meat is the perfect example of the banality of evil
Here’s a copy of the letter I wrote to Devon on the back of the portrait I drew for him
Happy 18th, Dev.
It’s been a great few years, would have been a lot different if I never knew you. You pretty much taught me everything I know about how to have some crazy fun times in high school, so thanks for that, and for being a cool friend. I won’t forget you. :)
I walked inside his place, didn’t smile much, but wished him a happy birthday. He thought the picture was "totally badass". Jamal & I made some awkward small talk. Devon asked about “my boy” and commented that Ethan was shorter than me. We joked around a bit, I said goodbye. ended with “y’all have a good day” (wtf. am I a waitress?) and walked out to my car. Promptly started crying, cried all the way home. My heart hurts. I love Ethan, but I’ve always loved Devon. I love him too much to be with him, because I’ll never think I deserve him. I’m crying again dammit.
(entry about thinking I’m in love, yada yada yada, Devon says he will love me until he gets married, we are going to have a beautiful life together and I’m going to write him a thousand love letters while I’m at college, etc. etc. etc.)
bright eyes & hot hearts
gin & ginger genitalia
(um… ew? stop trying to be Hannah, develop your own writing style. geez!)
(checklist of boys to make out with with some checked off and some not)
songs that remind me of people
Abby- Wagon Wheel, Let’s Dance to Joy Division
Steven- Bottom of Everything (Bright Eyes), Frank Sinatra, Doors
Amy- Electric Feel
Hannah- I am a Rock- Simon & Garfunkle, MGMT- LOL
Mark- PYT (Justice)
Henry- anything by Interpol / Death Cab
Connor- Ice Cream Paint Job
2500 from United
5000 summer job
10,000 working freshman year
20,000 student loans
I should not go to a 50,000 a year school if I can’t pay for it
Southwestern would be infinitely better in that case
writing is being able to take one thing’s attribute and compare it to another in a way that exaggerates its character
the magnolia leaf
the rich, velvet Magnolia leaves sinks with the mass of a potato in my palm as the too-bright brightness bounces off the brick but only between the dappling of dancy phantom leaves above, and I see everything. My pores open lie a thousand tiny mouths and lick the sunshine off the cerulean sky-dome, swallowing it into the very fabric of my muscles and it becomes my flesh. The leaf holds infinite truth, and I am too drawn to its power to abandon it. I pocket it, but keep my fingers on its texture. The contrast between the slick, metallic upper layer and its plush velvety underbelly is pure pleasure.