Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Some old graphics and I'm done.

 All Ryan Adams, All the Time

Over the past couple weeks, I have been engaging in the sickest forms of nostalgia.

Healthy Forms of Nostalgia:
- Looking at old pictures
- Laughing with friends and family about old times
- Listening to music you used to like.

Sick Forms of Nostalgia:
- Looking at bad poetry you wrote in middle school
- Looking at bad fanfiction you wrote in middle school
- Looking at anything you wrote before last week.

Things That Are Probably Healthier Than the Above:
- Eating five pints of Ben & Jerry's
- Sleeping all day
- Drugs and alcohol.

Okay, I may exaggerate a bit. A bit of narcissism (okay, self-reflection) is healthy for anyone; but past "a bit," it quickly devolves into an unhealthy spiral.

This trend of mine started for a variety of reasons, and if you follow me on Twitter, you know that I've been vomiting this nostalgia all over the place because it makes me feel so embarrassed and anxious I have to get it out somewhere and Twitter has been my current venting platform. Sorry, Twitter. In the past, it's been Livejournal, HTML typed into endless Notepad files, all the way back to Angelfire and Geocities. Jill: Vomiting Her Neuroses to the Internet since 1997. 

Hella Cute on the Empire State Building; real into Abandoned Pools.

I thought sharing some of this stuff would be funny, but I'm increasingly realizing it's not. I don't even feel comfortable sharing most of it with Kathy. Things I usually talked about in all of these forms of writing: Beauty! Passion! Love! Loneliness! Beauty! "My words"! It is like an overdamatic reading of a Chicken Soup for the Lonely Girl in a Small Town Soul, or a neverending Jewel album from 1997.

The only productive end to this sick habit I've immersed myself in is possibly having an empathetic moment for the youth I want to work with and help in my professional life; a potent reminder of how selfish, philosophical, and intense we are when we are young. Mostly selfish.

This isn't a bad thing, and by "selfish" I don't mean uncaring about your fellow human beings--contrary to popular opinion, even when being incredibly cruel, it's my belief that teens are probably more hyper-aware of the humanity around them than anyone else. They have a special ability to see everyone's beauty AND everyone's bullshit, a talent that often fades with age. The selfish part just comes in by being so wrapped up in your own shit that your brain almost doesn't have room for anything else.

Overanalyzing the Definition of Home, Over and Over

But I'm not 14 anymore--okay, or anywhere between the ages of 14 to 22--so there's no reason to keep dragging myself around in this. Sometimes I thought the things I wrote were hilarious (to me), but mostly they just made me feel weird. While I'll always be the person who wrote those things, I'm also not, anymore. I can grow some balls and put away the floppy disks and not open those weird folders on my ancient computer anymore, at least for now.

The only thing I kind of enjoy looking at are old crappy graphics I used to make; sometimes they were for webpages, sometimes they were just another form of angsty expression. By "graphics," I mean, taking pictures of myself and/or places and putting lyrics on them. Most of these are embarrassing too, but are in general somewhat more socially acceptable.

 Prom Dresses in Bingham Park

So anyway, to document these two weird weeks of awful nostalgia, here's some of these gems, accompanied by the related musical inspiration. (Only because it took some serious musical memory tweaking to remember what half of these lyrics were from, and so I have to share my sense of accomplishment. Don't worry, they're all really mopey and sad.) And then I'm done. Hear that, self? For Christ's sake, brain, get over yourself.

 The Epitome of My Hanson Fandom

High School.

How I Dressed Pretty Much Everyday / Oh, I Also Talked About Souls a Lot

I Actually Made Like 10 Graphics From This Song, Which I Definitely Didn't Know Was About One Night Stands

Screencapturing of iTunes For the Win

Yeah, done. Like that dude says to Keira Knightley after he pours out his heart outside her flat in Love Actually (even though he's actually supposed to be in love with the dude): "Enough. Enough now." 

Dear former self: It gets better. But do know that I still love you, embarrassing or not, anyway. Love, Me now, and Me always.

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