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.

Life metamorphisizes by the day as things become continually stranger and stranger. Minute by minute I am bombarded by emotions, thoughts, ideas and sensations that shape everything I sense. At times, I feel out of place and down. Others, I am a grand champion, striving above all others. Life is strange, yet exciting. The adventure of it all keeps me going.

Again, I wish I had been less elusive in my entries so I could remember what was so strange. The strangest thing I remember from this period in my life was that I brooded alone in the basement too much. So much so, that I had a reputation as a hermit amongst my friends. If you wanted to see me, you had to come to my cave.