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 was a great feeling today to drive and drive with little direction, only driving to seek safety from the cold and excitement in the morning before sunrise. Anxiously, I awaited for the moment when the sun would peak over the buildings and trees that compromise the city and I laughed and felt wonderful meandering from gas station to gas station finding whatever joy can be found in early morning doughnuts and pop. I stayed up all night for no other reason that I wanted to. It was wonderful. This, I think because I was doing as I wanted to with no one to object. I was happy to be alone, but if someone would have came along I would have loved it too, as long as they weren’t stopping me. I’m beautiful now because I’m doing whatever I want and finding the time to be me. If anyone should try to stop me, I hope I realize it in time to stop myself from loving them. For truly, I’m so in love with myself, I’d hate to ruin that relationship with someone else.

That last sentence could be viewed as a good thing or a bad thing, I guess. I view it as good, and that its meaning is you have to love yourself before you can love others. And I still enjoy road trips that go into the night.