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.

How far am I going or how far am I getting away. I think I might be missing knowledge I once had, making way for the questions I have now. The farther I seem to come with what I’m doing, the more I lose sight of what life is about. I’m forgetting love, peace, insight and wonder. I can try to remember, but it just doesn’t happen that way. I don’t want to become a shadow, a faint memory of what I could have been. I’ve worked too hard.

Wow, 19 years old and I’m already worrying about life balance. Though I think there was too much going on in my head, not necessarily in my life.