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.

I am better than no one else, but as I sit high and look down, I feel somewhat superior. Right now, in a not so positive angle, I’m glad I don’t have a girlfriend, haven’t taken a certain person, have bloomed this way, don’t drink, don’t isolate myself. This may well be my reckoning. I do not feel alone, and know that I will never be alone, but must achieve things on my own. It’s a trickle down kind of thing. I am not famous, I am not superior. I just am – and that’s all I should ever strive to be.

Guess I can’t hate on this too much. You know you’re doing alright when you’re alone but don’t feel alone. Know what I mean?