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.

Sometimes my mind wanders too heavily. If I find myself living in my dreams for too long, I become unhappy. The problem is that I do not live my dreams. It isn’t often that I can stop to smell the roses, but I try. I try so very hard. In 4 years my life has blurred by, I can hardly remember it’s pass. I wonder if I had stopped to look at beauty and lived once more than not, if I might remember more. I’ll live on depite what I miss. I’ll die when I see it all, or see too much.

Thankfully, I’ll never see it all and never see too much, therefore I’ll live forever!

To this day I put my mind in the past and future too often, not taking the time to be present. The irony is that I’m happiest when I am living in the right now, but I just don’t do it more often.