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.

Greater things called me that night – last night – an evil that needed to be met and with purpose I fled to match brawn with it. I won, I think. On the selfish side, it helped me in that I am better and I am a better person. As long as there is evil to vanquish, I shall be alive and filled with fire, but never burning out.

What the fuck are you talking about? Man, if my mom had found this journal and read it, I’d have spent some serious time in therapy for sure.