When I was 14, I thought I wanted to be a writer. I wrote dreadful poem after horrible short story. I was idealistic and ecstatic at the joy of life and depressed and suicidal all the time. I was a hopeless romantic and determined to do something meaningful with my life.

The more things change the more they stay the same?

Well, I got sidetracked for a bit and became a physicist and got actually depressed instead of fake angsty-teenager depressed. By the time I dug myself out of that ... I was all ready to be a moody, romantic writer-type again, and got introduced to E2 at the perfect time.

I’m staying at my parents’ house for the holidays, and I found all my old poems, and couldn’t help noding them. They’re generally naive and incredibly prematurely jaded, but there’s a little bit of something to them anyway. The list should be growing as I find more that don’t completely suck.

(I’m noding them as we speak so not all of them are here yet, but I’ll be working my way down from the top.)

The Garden Ballet
In the Blink of an Eye
San Marc Summer
School’s Out

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