Jan 11I wrote this. I wrote this when I was twenty-two years old, right before I got married, right after my partner scraped together $400 to fly to California to live on a boat with me and drive all night to Las Vegas and drink hard drinks in Laguna Beach at ten in the morning and I posted it on Livejournal when I had a very public and alarmingly popular one. That was more than seven years ago and this past fall someone transcribed it, made it into a JPG and suddenly it was on ffffound and even more suddenly after that it was on thousands of people’s blogs. Literally thousands. But it was credited to Anonymous, which I guess is understandable since seven years is a long time to keep track of who wrote something on a Livejournal. My friend Erin found and told me about it, she had remember it all those years, and at first I was so embarrassed. Of everything I’ve made why did it have to be this melodramatic thing, made before I really knew anything at all? IT IS SO MELODRAMATIC. But my possessiveness is greater than my self-consciousness because when I see that some people weren’t even going along with Anonymous but saying they wrote it themselves I kind of want to claw their eyes out. It’s my melodrama. (Although one person credited it to Harvey Milk and that was the best)
Anyway, I wrote that.
A blog post by Helena Kvarnström, whose novella I really want to read.
