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.

Maybe I wasn’t abandoned and now I don’t feel so betrayed as before. The power of the game.

Not totally sure on this, but it could be about Dungeons & Dragons. That game can be a powerful experience, and it can also be an emotional experience. So maybe my feelings were hurt by something in the game. Maybe…

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 fear my job may have made me an addictive gambler. Of course, I could only be fooling myself to believe this, but if I believe it, then it is real. I must stop, and vow to never buy another lottery ticket. Even now, I’m telling myself, no - quit after tomorrow, but no - this problem taints me, I must quit as of now. No more risking money on stolen profits. The money I steal from now goes to my pocket, not to my madness. I am as serious as I am scared.

Oh yeah, I used to work at a gas station during my summers at college. We had an all summer long sale on three giant bags of salt for people’s water softeners, and people would buy them like crazy for exactly $10.64 with tax. Half the time if they bought it, the money went to the gas station. The other half of the time, the money went into my pocket. Until I got hooked on using the money to buy lottery tickets (which I didn’t steal because, unlike the salt, they were kept careful track of). It wasn’t long before I realized that stealing to support a gambling habit does not have a good profit margin.

But I’m amused at my reaction here. I still say the same thing about gambling, and alcohol, and junk food, and driving too fast. Maybe I should just give in and live it up.

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’m reading this Big Book of Weirdos, and I’m wondering, why am I not in here? I’m jealous in a way because I want to rank among the weird who shall reign in infamy far past their deaths. I feel I shall, for long is my time and long has my oddity been growing unborn within my brain’s womb. Soon the world will know, and the revised Big Book of Weirdos will be forthcoming.

Wow, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while. Thanks, me from 15 years ago!

I can totally remember wanting nothing more to be infamous somehow. Not famous. No, that wasn’t my goal. Infamous. What I know now, though, is that if you want to act crazy and freak people out, go ahead. I did it for years thinking it made me somehow superior. Then it hit me - scaring people away is easy. Making people at ease around you, and getting close to people is far more challenging.

Side note: The Big Book series I mention here is awesome. It was put out under a DC Comics imprint back in the day. Totally worth seeking out.

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.

Maybe I wasn’t abandoned and now I don’t feel so betrayed as before. The power of the game.

Though I can’t tell you what I’m talking about in this entry, I can tell you that I’ve learned that both then and now, I think too much.

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 guess it’s true that you can do a job too well. Life’s a bunch of choices & long ago I knew life held more for me than guardian of a piece of corporate America’s pie. Destiny’s funny that way, you never know how it’s going to dress when it shows up. I own that store already, why would I want to spend my life there.

I’m betting that I got offered a management position at the gas station, but told them no thanks because I was returning to college after the summer is over. No joke, I was really good at that job.

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.

So maybe the summer has slowed and now we’re all too busy working crazily so we can act lazily for 9 months. Still, life is fantastically insert word here for wonderful, electric, exotic, amazing & gleefully tiring. Not that I know why, but not that I care.

Wow, having so much fun I had to underline it!

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.

Castration has never been more deserved by anyone than by Nick. Never before has the thought of someone reproducing both frightened & repulsed me. The act itself & how he would come across someone that would be willing to have sex with him is beyond my comprehension. Education is the key, as is infanticide for genetic mutants.

Nick was the guy that took my place as the overnight person at the gas station I was working at. He was interesting…to say the least. Now I think castration would be too extreme, but I wouldn’t mind know he has a government issued vasectomy.

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.

That pride, no matter how fantasy entrenched, no matter how brief, no matter how fleeting, will always be carried with me. I govern over a city.

Despite this always being carried with me, I’m not sure what I’m talking about here. I’m guessing I ruled a city in some fantasy role-playing game.

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.

Being with whom I’ve chosen to be is tough. But it’s such a delectable torture that I choose to stick with it.

Why is it tough? It sounds like you’re still in the early love throes where everything is wonderful.

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’m glad to report that the darksider species is not extinct as I had believed it previously to be. It’s just been in regression until recently. Thank you Nine Inch Nails.

Darksider is an old Midwest term for Goths, who faded our for a while post Cure, but came back with a vengeance thanks to Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson. They seem to be a staple of society now, which I’m glad about. I just like to watch them.