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Like you've never had sex with a box of tissues before... [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

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[Jul. 21st, 2011|02:04 am]
[Current Mood |nostalgiclooking back]
[Current Music |Bjork: New World]

What's the point of keeping a journal if you don't look back upon it.

Doing just that, it knocks me back a peg. I've aged, yes, and have been more exposed to a number of different mediums, but I've grown as a person so little, still repeating the same mistakes. Especially when it comes to women. You think I could be content with just being happy, but no. If I am not wanting what I can't have, it doesn't sit with me. It's a trait that makes it difficult to gaze upon a mirror.

To quote the great Fight Club, "I am a thirty-year-old boy". I don't think I will make it much past the age of forty, not without a strong hand in guidance. The 20-20 hindsight is aggravating.

Am I at all capable of being original? Or am I cursed to be a hack; ripping off the obscure in one beautiful, referential cocktail? Or can I break free, think for myself, putting blinders on and allow myself room for the proper growth.

I wish I could go back, but only with the caveat that I know then what I know now.