Cringe Worthy: Wanna Read My Diary?

I have been an avid journal writer since I was ten. Even then, there was something so therapeutic about expressing the pains of my pre-teen mind that it literally became like a drug for me. Even if I only wrote three words (such as my first and middle name with my crush’s last name), it had to happen.

By CC Staff

I used to hide my little books of craziness around my room so that no one would find them. If anyone got even remotely close to their hidden location I would spaz like there was no tomorrow. No one could read it. No one.

The first time I pulled the old journals out after years of not seeing them— Oh. My. God. I was a freaking looney tune! Reading the entry about losing my virginity? How dramatic can you get? I mean it was dramatic, but you would have thought I was writing Wuthering Heights, or something. I wrote 14 fucking pages. And I shit you not, the guy is in jail now (that was really embarrassing to admit). I mean, I’m so much less dramatic now… seriously.

When I heard about Cringe, a monthly event held at Freddy’s Bar and Backroom in Brooklyn, NY, I couldn’t believe that people actually did this. Cringe allows anyone in the room to get up on stage in a room jam packed with people, and read your old diaries, letters, poems—anything cringe-worthy basically. The event has become so popular, it’s hard to get in the door now.

I have to give it up to the people who actually read things. I could never do it. Perhaps I haven’t moved on far enough from those angsty teen days. Perhaps the fact that I’ve been obsessing about the same guy for close to a decade now makes it all too close to home. Perhaps… I could never in a million years. I even tried to copy a piece of an old entry into this post, and I couldn’t. And I’m not even looking at you people.

Despite my own fears, I think it’s an awesome idea. To me, it’s a like a superior version of Post Secret. A clip from a reading was printed in the most recent issue of Paste, and it’s hilarious. Maybe one day I’ll gather up the nerve to sit down with a bottle of wine and good friends and share, but… until then, my secret lunacy is still my own.