Man I would've punched myself in the face....

I have a problem.... I made a deal of sorts with a one Ann Hamilton that if she finally update the blog she shares with her roommate I would post some of the poetry I recently found that I wrote in high school. Now I assumed that she wouldn't do it, cause it had been months and months since their last post. I was wrong. I was terribly wrong actually, but never let it be said that Tim "ThunderLips" Rorie is not a man of his word so here's a sampling of the terribly angsty, poorly written, and overall dreadful poetry I wrote once upon a time completely unedited. 

The first is oh so intelligently called:"Hurting from Pain". I can't remember why I wrote this one, but apparently it had to do with a girl.

"Hurting from Pain"

Dreams, 
Reality, 
What's the difference? 
Does it matter anymore? 
My reality used to be a dream, 
But now it's a nightmare. 
Whether I sleep or stay awake 
The pain stays with me. 
It's torture of the worst kind, 
On the inside, 
In my heart. 
I want to cry, 
But I have no tears. 
I want to scream, 
But I have no breath. 
I want to die, 
But without you, I have no life


This next selection apparently goes follows the same theme of despair over a woman. For a guy who didn't really date in high school I sure had a lot of lady problems. Or maybe I just thought I did. 

"Not Again"

The pain 
The hurt 
The cold knife in my heart 
The shattering of my soul 
The ache deep down in me. 
It kills me! 
At least, it did. 
But not anymore. 
I'm not going to let it do this to me anymore 
I'm taking away its power. 
It will not control me 
She won't hurt me again.


Dang, this is getting rough. Is there anything happy I wrote? This is about as close as I can get:


"My Dream"

I have a dream. 
And in my dream, 
I'm happy. 
I do everything right, 
Say everything cool, 
Win the girl of my heart. 
Then I wake up, 
And I mess up, 
Sound like an idiot. 
Lose the love of my life. 
And yet..... 
I'd rather be awake, 
Living in my nightmare. 
Cause while I'm dreaming, 
I can't make it reality. 
Soon, I believe my nightmare shall end 
And I'll wake up 
In my dream.


And to finish it all off, here's a quick poem that I wrote and I'll never forget (Probably because it's  so simple):

"Hate and Love"

If I hate haters for hating, 
Then do I hate myself for hating haters? 
If so, then where does it end? 
Will it end? 
Can it end? 
A better idea is to love lovers for loving. 
Then I would love myself 
For loving lovers. 
I Love That.


And that's all the high school poetry you shall get from me. There are notebooks, sticky notes, random pages and more that I was able to find, but luckily for you and I they will never see the light of day again.

In all seriousness though, even though I'm making fun of myself and the stuff I wrote, I'm really glad I had that outlet to help me deal with things that I thought were huge at the time. It was a safe way to try and make sense of everything that was going on around me, a way to put it all down on paper and let it go. I remember really enjoying writing poetry, and as I've gotten older I moved into writing short stories, then slightly longer stories, a blog, random thoughts, and even a continuing story that may one day be a novel if I ever sit down and write on it for long enough. 

Hopefully I can look back years from now at the things I am writing now and have the same fondness. Or maybe I'll just make fun of me again. Either way it should be enjoyable. I may even write a poem about it.

Now I leave you with what I feel is an appropriate enough video. Thanks for reading, and feel free to mock me in the comments or in real life. Or buy me steak. Yeah... buy me steak.