An ode to teenage angst 😖

My mom sent me this poem, which I apparently wrote when I was 17. She asked if I was really unhappy at the time. I don’t know. I remember listening to a lot of Violent Femmes and The Cure and painting pictures that involved blood and gore and also desperately wishing I had a girlfriend but never getting the nerve up to talk to any girls and staying up so late I had to drink Mountain Dew for breakfast every morning to drag myself to school and then still falling asleep in every class.


Don’t worry, I’m feeling better.

CEO of Medium, partner at Obvious Ventures, co-founder of Twitter, aspiring motivational speaker 🤸‍♂️