||[Aug. 11th, 2005|01:04 pm]
So..boxes were brought back from storage from ages ago. I started digging through them today. Old pictures, homework, stuffed animals, magazines, hanson FOLDERS (what was I thinking?), etc.
I did find one thing that made my day, though. A letter from an old online friend (mock me if you will--it didn't hit me how nice it was until I re-read it today). I used to talk to this guy online when I was in...what...7th, maybe 8th grade? You all know--the bad phase. He told me about bright eyes, elliot smith, and belle and sebastian, made me read lyrics(One bright eyes song imparticular really struck a chord with him and I remember him immediately e-mailing lyrics and insisting that I read them) and helped me absorb them. Told me about movies, books, you name it. Now, all of the conversations are kind of a blur in the back of my head. I remember each of us sharing boy/girl troubles. He'd tell me how he was writing a poem for a girl at the movie place, and so on. Minor things, sure, but it still made the days nice when there was that person to talk to. For some reason or another, I think I made him mad. I probably said something offensive or rude (I didn't seem to care much about what I said or how it affected people..I was a bit of a bitch..was? oh.) and I just vaguely remember him getting frustrated with me, and then after awhile I didn't see him online anymore, and couldn't track him down.
Anyway, before I lost him, I went to church camp one summer and being the paranoid little girl I was I wouldn't let him write me at home, but since I was going to camp I gave him the address there. He sent me a letter telling me about life, plans for college, trying to get a summer job, how his novel he was writing was going, and how he's been reading a lot of camus, satre and the sort (There is NO way I knew what he was talking about then--NO WAY.) But he didn't talk down to me. He enclosed a poem that he had written before we started talking, but stated, now that he thought about it, it kind of applied to me.
I never wrote him back even though his address was on the envelope. I've never been a great letter writer, and was paranoid (after all those lifetime specials) that something would go wrong or my parents would get mad at me for giving my address out or read my mail--what have you, and now after re-reading this letter, and poem especially, I really deeply regret it. I'm half tempted to write a letter to the address, apologizing for never thanking him to the extent I should of. I guess it just really hit me today. Maybe the letter would get forwarded to him? Maybe not.
Either way, cheers to dan, wherever he is, for being a clever poet and sending a nice letter to a girl when she wasn't really the girl anyone would give the time of day to and making her day 4-5 years later.
I'll end this post with the poem.
Pop might be the antidote to all the world's ills
It might make magnanimous all those messes and mistakes.
Singing three notes til I'm terrified, A tangy treble in a tasty treat
Your southern twang seduces so much I think I've sinned against sense
I hear your heart in a hundred hymns to childlike confusion
But you're not here and I'm scared because suave in a sentence seemed so simple
But those tiny ears turned down my timbres, scratched the record of my cooing chords, warped my wooings
A cute smile and big brown eyes is all I really want but I think I picked door number three because all I see is a quick glance up and suddenly the cover of the White Album is a work of art
I'd pay the admission price for a peek but your gallery only holds asthetically pleasing paintings
Someone tell that Southern Belle and Sebastian fan I wish she was here and that these red rose rogues ripped up my writing and now I have a hole where heaven is supposed to be
Oh, sweet songs, might you come a little closer, all I want is a friend I can film forgetting to frown.