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.

It’s all becoming a fond memory now and I wonder if the hand of God will continue to fall prey to temptation. I ask for nothing and end up with everything. I will ask again though: Let me not have anything that conventional wisdom says will bring fulfillment if it means I will lose the gift of being able to bring joy to all those that I touch. If my happiness will be at the cost of those about me, then let me not be happy. Just give me the energy to absolve people from problems. Give me the touch of God.

Where did I get this hand of God thing from? Especially since only a couple years ago I believed in the Norse Pantheon, it seems like an odd twist. The most entertaining part is that I feel guilty for having had sex because, obviously, God wouldn’t want his right hand man to be doing that. Jeeez…