Seemingly, Miss Fortune.

I started this diary when I was 14….or 15….I can’t remember which. The picture is of me, taken on what I could only describe as the world’s first digital camera. (it took six AA batteries and had a resolution of under 300 pixels). This was around the time when MP3 players were unknown and the internet consisted of opendiary and MSN messenger (and porn, lots of porn). 56K was the fastest speed we’d ever known!

SO everytime I log into my diary I get this grainy picture of a 15 year old me, slapping me in the face, "what happened to you?"
Oh, I don’t know, 15 year old self, I think it may have something to do with drugs, deaths, friendless friend-loss, guidance free living in a boundary-less world, jumping from one horrible relationship to the next, living on the simple thought that at any moment if I didn’t want to continue I could end it all in a blaze of glory and it wouldn’t matter. It wouldn’t make a mark, a brand. 
So to recap: Grew up before your time. Suck it up. Everyone’s life is a shithole and you’re nothing special. 
…Sigh, 15 year old self, I wish I could jump into that picture and let you know the things that I know now. I wish doc and I could hop in the delorean and let you know just how cruel the world can be in terms of stupidity and life lessons.

OK, so you didn’t grow up to be a rockstar, Mr stand-in-the-mirror-playing-along-to-songs-on-guitar. But if everyone’s life turned out the way they wanted it to when they were 15, the world would be a hell of a lot different. I’ve got a beautiful wife and a career path, a credit card and a car to call my own. I’d like a kid or two, BEFORE I’m fuckin 30, because being 40 when my kid is ten sounds like shit. 

 Maybe I was a bit prophetic at 15. Maybe I knew somehow that things weren’t always going to turn out spectacular but that somehow I’d always end up landing feet first. Or maybe I just grew up living life instead of thinking about what it would become.

Oh, 15 year old self, the shit you go through in the next 11 years is going to make you who I am today. And who I am is everything, to someone, somewhere, including myself…..Wow. That shit got too deep.

Take a break:

http://www.youtube.com/embed/7cvKcMbzN_A

Let’s be honest here, The only reason I started this diary. THIS very same diary,
Was because I wanted to get the attention of a girl. I don’t remember her name. I don’t remember what she looks like (or maybe I do, who knows?) But it worked. It worked so god damned well I kept this diary for years, and years. I was here through freeopendiary.com and back again, and though the beginning portion of my diary has been long since deleted….well, I don’t remember what it was anyways….15 year olds don’t have anything important to say, they just think they do. I remember writing here, thinking that my opinion was the most important, that people would read and listen and agree, thinking that what I SAY is important!

But it’s not. It’s not important. The world still turns, teenagers are still self absorbed and talk/act/portray themselves as complete morons. Life goes on. And that’s exactly what happened to me, oh 15 year old self, life went on

So here we are. Opinionated and restless. Waiting for that new so called chapter in life to open or begin or start or whatever the hell it does. I’m not talking manifested destiny here, I’m talking the end of a beginning (or vice versa).

Sometimes I wonder if anyone ever thought I was completely batshit insane after reading any single entry in this particular diary…..But then it occurs to me…..

Of course they did.