I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

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Now life passes too slow. I work towards being a complete person, When I don’t even know the puzzles look. I have goals, But now this is all I can have. Who made the rules?

One thing I seem to still have in common with my past self: I’m never simply satisfied.