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 is dull, it true, but I keep hoping for more and mayhap, it will come. If I stop believing then there is little I can hope to see. I know the future is grand and my destiny, which I have seen is fabulous, but the wait is driving me mad. Dally away the days until my time comes. Until the world stope before my pace, and I no longer compete in the race. Frivolous time wasted away, nothing gained unless I go faster. I burn inside with hope and glory, but you beat me down with no mercy. The more you strike, the stronger I become. The more you scoff, I become more determined I am invincible, and believe it or not, I will live forever, I won’t stop until I rule the world, it’s a goal. I keep coming and it’s her I keep loving. Give me strength in my wait if it is long. It’s here, it’s all here. Deep below the sea, when the moon is looming, it waits. Destiny calls to me, but I have to hold my breath or I drown before I reach my goals. Love my girl, I will not fall prey to petty distractions which would only serve to tempt. Give.

If anything, this mostly pointless diatribe seems to illustrate my tenacity - something I still possess, which has proven a blessing and a bane in my life. I’ll always get something done, even if I hate doing it. Conversely, if I’ve made a decision it’s nearly impossible to veer me away from it. PS - I have yet to rule the world.