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.

Sue used to give me a little something. She used to make me feel a litle better but now it’s changed. All she is capable of is droning on and on about drinking at college. Perhaps she is entertained, but I am bored. Bored of her.

At first I thought I was changing, and I was mad at myself. Now, I find that the world is changing and it’s no fault of mine.

Times will change, but I don’t have to change with them. All the rest can go drink their coffee, wear their ties and be business for all I care. I will be alone perhaps, a child forgotten, but I will be happy.

Happy to be able to be me and happy that I’m not them. I hope society will leave me alone, that’s the way it should be.

Leave me be happy, In my flowers of ignorance. Find me no troubles, I’ll tell you no lies.

Here I go again, whining about me being the outsider by choice. And that notion about not changing - total bullshit. Let me tell you something about life, young me. Evolve or die (on the inside, kinda like you are now).