Quick back story: in January of 1995 after Pedro Zamora of the Real World died, I became an AIDS educator with ARC.
This wasn't enough, however. I really felt the need to put my feelings on paper and wrote a poem about him and sent it (along with a dorky letter) to MTV.
I was very melodramatic, guys.
MTV sent it onto his family, and one day I came home from work and my roommates were all in a tizzy. They said, "when the phone rings at 7 PM you HAVE TO ANSWER IT."
So, I did. It was Alex Escarano, Pedro's best friend from Miami. They wanted me to come to the street naming in Miami to read the poem and then someone was going to translate it into Spanish and read it too.
I couldn't afford to go (and MTV sure wasn't footing the bill), but I was so freaking excited.
It was an epically bad poem. I just dug through some papers and found it and will now share it with you because it is some hilarious shit. Please remember I was 20.
The Torch
A young man walks alone Not more than a boy, really Unsure and frightened Feeling lonely Feeling betrayed Feeling life within his grasp and Feeling it slip A light burns in the distance and he moves on Just feeling He picks up the candle At first not really sure what it means Only that a flame is building within A burning desire Is it hope? Is it devotion? No, it's more Anger fading into strength He gives his heart and his voice His conviction and love His laughter and tears Family and friends Strangers too Becoming not so alien To this light - this intense fire And so nurtured, a candle becomes a torch Memories made Understanding gained And still the light burns on But the boy is beckoned By a light even greater than that which he holds in his hand He's built a radiant dream that began With one singular wish - to reach humanity To make them see not with their eyes, but with their hearts Touching the souls of those yet untouched Lighting many more candles that will soon reach beyond the sun And the moon And the stars And so the boy moves on A hug, a kiss, a tear, a sigh A sacred legacy left behind A tale told and retold of courage and passion A lover, a friend, a brother, a son Living on in all who loved him And here I am A child full of promise And longing unfulfilled Holding one flickering candle
DS recently came running into the living room a few weeks ago with my old journal from freshman year of college. Let's just say, I didn't particularly want H to find out how crazy I was back then, and some of the over dramatic things I wrote about life, and him. SO embarrassing. Luckily, I got it away from DS and hid it away. I thought about destroying it, but maybe one day I will read it and it will be funny.
DS recently came running into the living room a few weeks ago with my old journal from freshman year of college. Let's just say, I didn't particularly want H to find out how crazy I was back then, and some of the over dramatic things I wrote about life, and him. SO embarrassing. Luckily, I got it away from DS and hid it away. I thought about destroying it, but maybe one day I will read it and it will be funny.
Some day.
A few years ago I destroyed all of my journals from junior high through college. I have never regretted it. I would have been so mortified if anyone else had ever read them!. I actually feel great relief that those thoughts will never be read by anyone else!!