deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Writer's Journal: Entry X
Dear Journal,
I don't want to rant about how I can't write, or how I'm suffering from writer's block. I don't want to think about those horrible things, I just want to treat this like an actual journal and pour out my heart and soul into something. Talk to something that doesn't really have to listen, Anne Frank said that paper has more patience than people and I believe that she is right. Well not that this is actually considered paper. . . Considering I'm typing it up on a website for poetry. It's odd, a few years ago I'd feel so awkward sharing my emotions, feelings and personal experiences with the world but now I just I don't care.
"You'll tell strangers your poem but you won't tell us."
That's what my mother said once after I wrote an angry poem detailing an argument between her, I and my boyfriend. And I didn't know what the reply with, no one knows me on this sight however my twitter account links to it and anyone and everyone can see the mad girl behind Paige Rider if they so wanted to, the real name and face behind the disturbing tales for which I speak.
And as for my family reading my poems, they know the websites name and if they half listened to a think I said they'd hear my username as well. And they can read my poems, it's open to them. My best friends reads my poems on here and I read her's, maybe it's unspoken rule among poets. But then again I remember my ex-girlfriend, how she was the one who should me this website and I found her poems, read them and felt sick. The erotica she wrote for no given reason making me feel awkward to be dating her, let alone know what stirred around in her head. And I had to smile and pretend that it didn't hurt me when she wrote poems about past loves, wrote poems about rape, sex, being molested or what she did to "pass the time" with her friends.
And I sat there, reading those words and feeling sick to my stomach. If it's an unspoken rule among fellow poets to be respectful when reading another poetry then it's an unspoken rule that the poet writing should be respectful of the people that they know (in real life) reading it. She should've told me which ones to read and not to read.
She never wrote me a love poem after we started dating, only before during the innocent moments of a crush. After we started dating, she never once wrote a love poem for me. Unless it was in respond to my own poems about her. I wrote about her constantly, so constantly that I eventually ran out of metaphors to use for her.
But I don't want to talk about her.
"Why are you dedicating songs to your ex?"
Why does my mother feel like questioning everything I do? Because after her and I found "Wonderland", I was constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if were "Out Of The Woods" yet? If her problems would ever stop, if she would always stop finding a reason for us to not just have a normal relationship, all the way up until a year a three months later I cheated, she broke up with me and then wanted me back two days later.
I never talk about that day, maybe because I was too busy feeling guilty over cheating and not just ending it with her like a good person?
"All You Had To Do Was Stay", I wish that song existed that day, she was at my best friend's house getting drunk and trying to kill herself. My best friend being a nice person just couldn't turn her away and so she helped her. While she texted and called me, saying she made a mistake. All she's been doing is trying to kill herself since I left.
I left?!
Ugh, I'll write a poem about this memory later. . .
I really don't want to talk about her in my journal entry though, cause I could write a book all about her and that bipolar relationship that I had to put up with, for a year and three months. Funny I dedicated "The Story Of Us" to her when we were dating.
It looks like it's going to rain, I love rain. I thinking of going to the library and getting some books. My boyfriend's playing his video game, talking to some friends and my son is playing with a tiny bottle of soda and a police car. And I'm actually feeling good about writing today, I just wanted to write as myself before I step into the shoes of someone else. Two someones, cause I love those two narrator books all of a sudden.
Maybe one day I'll be known for it. The writer who always told two sides of the story famous for her several novels containing two narrators and we can't forget the sister series which contained three narrators, later one four.
I want to be famous one day.
I want to be a writer.
But I don't think I can make it.
I don't have a diploma.
And my mental disorders are too bad, I'll never get published.
Or get my GED, go to college and make a name for myself.
I'll be hiding in my room, typing stories that will never amount to anything.
This journal entry is turning into a poem, or more like a prose. Oh well, it's bound to happen. It's been forever since I've written without restrictions and it feels so nice to just tell someone, anything what I've been wanting to tell.
Tomorrow's my birthday and all I know is that I'm getting a Frozen cake, not a frozen as in ice cream but Frozen as in the movie, with Anna and Elsa, the snow queen and all that good stuff. I'll be turning 21 and I'm getting a Disney cake, my boyfriend keeps making a joke that I should get my first drink while the drinking age is still legally 21. But I'm just not sure, there's still a girl that doesn't see the point in drinking and giving into it feels like I'm selling out to the norm, what people expect of a girl turning 21. The idea makes me feel like I'm committing a crime, against myself.
My father was an alcoholic, his drinking destroyed my relationship with him as well as his marriage to my mother. My ex-girlfriend would call me up drunk randomly and tell me how much that she basically hated me and how I didn't really matter to her. My great-grandfather was abusive, murderous and suicidal when he drank, my grandmother and her siblings had to run to their neighbors houses because his temper was so bad. When my mom would drink with her boyfriend and his friends, she forgot how to be a mom.
The time I fell still stings in the back of my mind. Fell to the ground a few feet from my mother, drinking her cans of booze, smiling and laughing at stupid jokes. Only one to help me up was someone who hasn't been my friend for years now.
We were best friends back then.
So drinking has not been associated in my brain with "fun", it's been associated with stupidity, idioticness and just being a general ass to the people around you. I don't want to drink whether I'm 21 or not. Wouldn't it be better if my son grew up in a house where no one consumed alcohol, not even once?
He won't give into peer pressure if it's strongly shown that I do not believe in it, even more if his father follows suit. Or am I just setting myself up for disaster?
Expectation is the root of all heartache. - W. Shakespeare.
I need to get that tattooed on my person. It's my motto, if I don't expect anything, I'll never be disappointed. I will never want and so I will never not get. I do not expect to get any birthday presents tomorrow because our money has already run out. My present was the Taylor Swift CD that I got at the beginning of the month. I know about the cake and that's the end of it.
I will not expect anything more than that.
I want to sign my name at the bottom of this entry but I know that I can't because it's seen on the world wide web. And I don't like giving my name away, although I wouldn't mind sharing if you'd ask.
However I do have to go, because I can't find anything else to say or share. Thanks for listening anyway.
- Paige Rider
I don't want to rant about how I can't write, or how I'm suffering from writer's block. I don't want to think about those horrible things, I just want to treat this like an actual journal and pour out my heart and soul into something. Talk to something that doesn't really have to listen, Anne Frank said that paper has more patience than people and I believe that she is right. Well not that this is actually considered paper. . . Considering I'm typing it up on a website for poetry. It's odd, a few years ago I'd feel so awkward sharing my emotions, feelings and personal experiences with the world but now I just I don't care.
"You'll tell strangers your poem but you won't tell us."
That's what my mother said once after I wrote an angry poem detailing an argument between her, I and my boyfriend. And I didn't know what the reply with, no one knows me on this sight however my twitter account links to it and anyone and everyone can see the mad girl behind Paige Rider if they so wanted to, the real name and face behind the disturbing tales for which I speak.
And as for my family reading my poems, they know the websites name and if they half listened to a think I said they'd hear my username as well. And they can read my poems, it's open to them. My best friends reads my poems on here and I read her's, maybe it's unspoken rule among poets. But then again I remember my ex-girlfriend, how she was the one who should me this website and I found her poems, read them and felt sick. The erotica she wrote for no given reason making me feel awkward to be dating her, let alone know what stirred around in her head. And I had to smile and pretend that it didn't hurt me when she wrote poems about past loves, wrote poems about rape, sex, being molested or what she did to "pass the time" with her friends.
And I sat there, reading those words and feeling sick to my stomach. If it's an unspoken rule among fellow poets to be respectful when reading another poetry then it's an unspoken rule that the poet writing should be respectful of the people that they know (in real life) reading it. She should've told me which ones to read and not to read.
She never wrote me a love poem after we started dating, only before during the innocent moments of a crush. After we started dating, she never once wrote a love poem for me. Unless it was in respond to my own poems about her. I wrote about her constantly, so constantly that I eventually ran out of metaphors to use for her.
But I don't want to talk about her.
"Why are you dedicating songs to your ex?"
Why does my mother feel like questioning everything I do? Because after her and I found "Wonderland", I was constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if were "Out Of The Woods" yet? If her problems would ever stop, if she would always stop finding a reason for us to not just have a normal relationship, all the way up until a year a three months later I cheated, she broke up with me and then wanted me back two days later.
I never talk about that day, maybe because I was too busy feeling guilty over cheating and not just ending it with her like a good person?
"All You Had To Do Was Stay", I wish that song existed that day, she was at my best friend's house getting drunk and trying to kill herself. My best friend being a nice person just couldn't turn her away and so she helped her. While she texted and called me, saying she made a mistake. All she's been doing is trying to kill herself since I left.
I left?!
Ugh, I'll write a poem about this memory later. . .
I really don't want to talk about her in my journal entry though, cause I could write a book all about her and that bipolar relationship that I had to put up with, for a year and three months. Funny I dedicated "The Story Of Us" to her when we were dating.
It looks like it's going to rain, I love rain. I thinking of going to the library and getting some books. My boyfriend's playing his video game, talking to some friends and my son is playing with a tiny bottle of soda and a police car. And I'm actually feeling good about writing today, I just wanted to write as myself before I step into the shoes of someone else. Two someones, cause I love those two narrator books all of a sudden.
Maybe one day I'll be known for it. The writer who always told two sides of the story famous for her several novels containing two narrators and we can't forget the sister series which contained three narrators, later one four.
I want to be famous one day.
I want to be a writer.
But I don't think I can make it.
I don't have a diploma.
And my mental disorders are too bad, I'll never get published.
Or get my GED, go to college and make a name for myself.
I'll be hiding in my room, typing stories that will never amount to anything.
This journal entry is turning into a poem, or more like a prose. Oh well, it's bound to happen. It's been forever since I've written without restrictions and it feels so nice to just tell someone, anything what I've been wanting to tell.
Tomorrow's my birthday and all I know is that I'm getting a Frozen cake, not a frozen as in ice cream but Frozen as in the movie, with Anna and Elsa, the snow queen and all that good stuff. I'll be turning 21 and I'm getting a Disney cake, my boyfriend keeps making a joke that I should get my first drink while the drinking age is still legally 21. But I'm just not sure, there's still a girl that doesn't see the point in drinking and giving into it feels like I'm selling out to the norm, what people expect of a girl turning 21. The idea makes me feel like I'm committing a crime, against myself.
My father was an alcoholic, his drinking destroyed my relationship with him as well as his marriage to my mother. My ex-girlfriend would call me up drunk randomly and tell me how much that she basically hated me and how I didn't really matter to her. My great-grandfather was abusive, murderous and suicidal when he drank, my grandmother and her siblings had to run to their neighbors houses because his temper was so bad. When my mom would drink with her boyfriend and his friends, she forgot how to be a mom.
The time I fell still stings in the back of my mind. Fell to the ground a few feet from my mother, drinking her cans of booze, smiling and laughing at stupid jokes. Only one to help me up was someone who hasn't been my friend for years now.
We were best friends back then.
So drinking has not been associated in my brain with "fun", it's been associated with stupidity, idioticness and just being a general ass to the people around you. I don't want to drink whether I'm 21 or not. Wouldn't it be better if my son grew up in a house where no one consumed alcohol, not even once?
He won't give into peer pressure if it's strongly shown that I do not believe in it, even more if his father follows suit. Or am I just setting myself up for disaster?
Expectation is the root of all heartache. - W. Shakespeare.
I need to get that tattooed on my person. It's my motto, if I don't expect anything, I'll never be disappointed. I will never want and so I will never not get. I do not expect to get any birthday presents tomorrow because our money has already run out. My present was the Taylor Swift CD that I got at the beginning of the month. I know about the cake and that's the end of it.
I will not expect anything more than that.
I want to sign my name at the bottom of this entry but I know that I can't because it's seen on the world wide web. And I don't like giving my name away, although I wouldn't mind sharing if you'd ask.
However I do have to go, because I can't find anything else to say or share. Thanks for listening anyway.
- Paige Rider
Published 25th Nov 2014
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