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.

Some people say I’m immature. Untrue. When I walk the fine line between fiction and reality, I choose fiction. So I’m not trapped here, not being able to see things any other way. I’ve chosen to be here and I don’t want it in any other way.

Well, I definitely used to live in a much more fictional world in my mind, that’s for sure. It was just an active imagination and a heavy desire to create, though. Thankfully I’ve graduated from being immature to being viewed as younger than I actually am.