I was looking through old journals for some teenage writing to submit to Mortified (a reading series of adults reading from their teen journals). I'm learning that not only was I not getting laid at 13, but I was also a bitch, a homophobe, and a hopeless/hapless romantic.
Come and read some of the great delights of my youth. Transcribed below. I'm screaming as I read some of this stuff. It's godawful and so wonderously embarrassing. But I can just pin the blame of these literary horrors on my youth and sassy San Francisco upbringing.
I think I wrote the below poem after being rejected by Yasuhara Inagaki. And by "rejected" I mean that I had a secret crush and he told someone that I was stupid and ugly.
Burn in hell Yasu, burn in hell.
Untitled Poem by Kristina Wong, Age 13
as the sun comes over over the clouds
the sun peers
light streams through the cotton clouds
on the purple horizon
days of heat
nights of passion
no need to become
no need to be
why oh why?
is life so sweet that a first kiss is deadly?
words, to live by
i'm a poet, I'll starve.
i'm still a poet.
gosh i'm a fool i can't believe i thought Yasu might like me.
life stinks
What a somber name for a site. Death? Yeeks!