I was given my diary from when I was eleven and it made me smile. You know why? Because the theme of that diary and this one and the one before that are all the same. Apparently I really enjoy writing when I have a bad day or something pissed me off. And it all started before I even hit puberty. Man, I am one messed up kid. But I guess it's better if I express my dissatisfactions on paper rather than punching a hole through the wall, right? Yeah, I thought so. Anyway, it's nice to know where I come from. This history disturbs the quiet platitude of my soul but it's better to know than to be ignorant. Maybe then the future can be a brighter thing to look forward to.