What’s all this?
At the beginning of all of this, I had huge ambitions. I was going to develop a pilot, get a late night packet together, finish my play, finalize my solo show, and still have time to watch every single classic movie I’ve never seen. This was going to be one month, maybe two, of a writing retreat in my cute little studio apartment. And the first few weeks, it was going alright. I had notecards up on the wall for storyboarding. I had an abundance of post-its with ideas and edits.
I lost my job, and my free time was multiplying on itself like little time-rabbits (Doctor Who can have this idea FOR FREE). The idea of writing anything big with all the stages closed and all of my career ambitions on hold was overwhelming.
And then I stopped trying to write big. And I started writing small. My journaling turned away from the classic “today I did this and I felt this way about it” entries and became little fragmented thoughts, little poem-ys for lack of a better word. They seemed like the best way to process the emotions of my life, because recounting the events of my day would read:
“Dear Diary,
Today, I watched between 10 and 14 episodes of Community while playing a game this isn’t Candy Crush, but is kind of like Candy Crush. I looked up ‘chicken instant pot recipes’ and then settled on take out instead, because I’m ‘worth it.’ Can you justify treating yourself to a nice dinner after a bad day, when everyday’s kind of a bad day? Now, I’m going to take off my day pajamas and put on my night pajamas and then not sleep.”
And so I wrote these little poems instead. And some of them aren’t half bad. And some of them are silly. And some of them are sad. And some of them are giant question marks. But I want to share them, with the caveat that I am not a poet.
But it’s a project that has brought me joy and relief. I write poems. I go to therapy. I take walks and look at sunsets. And right now, that’s enough.
So, please enjoy “Moody Teenage Poetry from Someone Who is Neither a Teen or a Poet.”
