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You Can’t Go Home Again

November 2, 2015

I realize I haven’t updated in a while and I apologize to those who look to my web log as a breath of fresh air! Morning dew on a summer’s day! The yin to your yanging…ahem…but I just haven’t had much to write about. Sure, I could write about some bullshit like anxiety or some more bullshit with the college, but ‘eh…so then I went home again. Kind of. I went to my old Livejournal account to prove a point to a friend–namely that on Halloween since about 2004 or 2005, I’ve wished everyone a Merry Christmas. So I post it every Halloween just about. I do it to make fun of the encroaching holiday and namely because I get nothing out of Halloween; I did get invited to a party which went well, considering. But mostly Halloween is a holiday which I don’t enjoy.

It’s what Valentine’s day is to most single people. I don’t discourage anyone from enjoying it and if ever asked to be somewhere on Halloween, I’d likely go. I’m getting sidetracked here. Point is I went to my livejournal account where this all started and…Jesus Christ, I wanted to punch that kid. So much whining and negativity and mean-spiritedness. It was horrifying. So that’s what I did on Halloween. I’m gonna chalk it up to just me being an unhappy 19 year old that evolved into an unhappy 20 year old that went on to be an unhappy 21 year old….and so on and so on.

I really don’t remember being that awful, but apparently I was. It wasn’t me calling gay people fags or black people the n-word. But it was him just whining about his life and where it was headed without actually trying to do much to change it. He also had a thing for wanting to be in a relationship so bad. By the way, I’m treating the 19 year old me as a distinct entity from me, because as far as we’re all concerned, he was. He was easily hurt and too thinks way too personally.

Honestly, though, if I saw that page at the age I am now, I’d have punched me or at least told him to grow up. Thus we have the joys of the internet: where your past never really dies; it just slowly rots away and you can always revisit it. I’d post some of what he said, but nothing was worthwhile and everything was me, me, me. He didn’t even have a grasp on grammar back then. That poor kid. Actually, I remember his reasoning: you’re online and it doesn’t matter very much whether you’re great with grammar. He was also very petty, which I see noticeable when he talks about my brother.

I do envy him in a few ways, though: he functioned better than I do now and his clothes fit better because I hadn’t quite ballooned back up yet. So he was very cocky about some things and not so much about others. Terrified of women, but then so am I. Mostly when it comes to romance. I always tell people I can be friends with women, I can joke with them, but asking one out? Hah…you’d have better luck getting a PeTA member to eat meat. I don’t know why that is, either, but it’s still something I still struggle with.

I guess you could call this horrifying trip down memory lane a good thing as it does really give me an appreciation for where I am now, but it’s also a great way to make me facepalm. I mean really, noticing you get treated better by what you wear? C’mon. That’s just shallow and I’d kick his ass now if he weren’t me. Or I was him. Heh…I saw a thing once comparing us to Doctor Who when he regenerates and I rather liked the comparison because we are different people the older we get and we’ve accumulated so much experience that’s shaped us.

So when I do talk about the past version of me I see it that way. He’s a previous regeneration of me that I’ll never see again except in my sleep or in my past. I do have a greater understanding of where I am now thanks to him, though, he left a guide of how horrible I could feel and the depths of inanity that he left behind. My only regret is that I can’t change who he was–only who I am now. And who knows, probably in 2029 I’ll look back on this iteration of me and cringe then, too.

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