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.

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The euphoria that coincides with love is the greatest feeling around, but other than that, it can be a pretty shitty thing. I’m having trouble believing that I’m sitting here writing this. But the truth of the matter is sooner or later love is going to make you do something you don’t want to, even if you don’t know it. It’s going to constrict you & slowly take the freedoms you once had. It that way, love sucks. Se la vi.

C’mon, it’s not really that bad, is it?