It’s not very often I write blog posts for my personal blog anymore. It is not for lack of ideas, it is simply that I’m not sure which ideas or facts I should share anymore. Most of my life reads like fiction, and the more I recall of the past the less likely it seems like it actually happened. Yet thanks to technology, and me being a digital pack rat I have a decades worth of photos, hundreds of thousands of IM logs detailing entire relationships, and thousands of articles and essays I’ve written. I have credible evidence and a solid timeline of the things I’ve been through, both good and bad, and yet it still reads like fiction. I’m constantly discrediting myself for things I’ve accomplished or done because to me they just simply were.
I spent most of my teen years wired into the internet, writing for my Apple blog, playing games, developing websites, going to press events, and had few friends. Socially I was capable, I just didn’t really have an affinity with anyone or anything really other then my blog. I was a misanthrope, and liked it that way. I accomplished the most at night because I could finally think, and write without anyone to get in my way. Around the time I turned 19 my life changed considerably however, I left school, I had my first real relationship, I accepted a position for my dream job, and I put my misanthropic ways behind me. For the next 4-years I became everything I had dreamed and feared when I was just another awkward teenager.
For better or worse, things have finally settled down this year.