I turned 22 yesterday. And with that in mind I sat down to write. I wrote a great deal about dumb shit and upon reading it I deleted every word. (Well no that's a lie. I kept the first sentence.) I deleted it because it was stupid.
I don't know anything about this world or my life. I can't be 100% sure of anything when I sit down and think about it. And I hate very much that admitting something like that because it makes me sound weak and lacking conviction. It sounds like failure and and paralyzing uncertainty and self-doubt. And I freely admit that sometimes I do fail and sometimes I am uncertain and sometimes I do doubt myself. Yet as paradoxical as it sounds I am just as sure of everything. I know good from evil when I see it. I know love and I know hate. I know happiness and I know loss. And I know that I am strong.
So upon looking back over these 22 years of life I have lived I can say I am not proud of everything I have done or failed to do. But I am sure that that's ok. I'm not sure where I'm headed and what this next year will bring, but I am sure that it will be alright. There is nothing in this life I can't handle, nothing so terrible it can't be beaten. Because I'm alive and will do my best to continue on being alive. As long as I do that everything else will shake itself out along the way.
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