Do You believe in something? Or someone? Most people would start talking about their religion, when answering that question. Lots of people have always relied on religion to guide them through their hardships. And it’s fair enough. No one can blame them for looking for support in something higher than themselves. Probably makes them feel much better. I, myself, have never believed in anything closely religious in my life. All I’ve ever had, is faith in myself. That I can do this shit. Whatever life throws at me, I’ll deal with the consequences and move on. I can’t even tell exactly, how many times I’ve proven everyone (myself included) wrong and turned the tables, when everyone least expected it.
Do you have any idea how important Your passport is? Trust me, it’s pretty fucking important. I found that out first hand back in Australia. I had just become a brand new owner of a 1981 Toyota Celica or The White Sabre, as we called it. My very first car. Now that car was something special. An actual legend, which You’ll be hearing more about in the unforeseeable future.
I used to be afraid of everything. I spent most of my teenage years sheltered. I believe it had something to do with my parents doing everything for me and never letting me solve any of my problems myself. I was gaming and watching TV shows day and night and only went out to go to school. I avoided as much contact with other people as I possibly could. I was one of those kids, that walked around places with their headphones on and tried to disappear into the mass. Deep down, however, I always felt like I’m preparing myself for what’s coming next. That this is all just a big training program for me. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Who knows.
I’ve always thought of myself as fairly average. Average in looks, intelligence, size, speed, strength, personality, capabilities… in life. A person with great ambition and mind full of dreams but nothing to back it up with. Someone who will always be a dreamer, living in obscurity, mindful only of his own well-being. Average. It’s actually rather ironic, because I hate being bored. That is to this day the one thing that hasn’t changed through 26 years, I hate boring. I dislike a bunch of things, like people cutting me off in traffic, long lines at the supermarket or obnoxiously loud people. It’s not difficult to rustle my jimmies, but it takes a lot to piss me off. With all of this in mind, I was bound to end up disappointed. In life, relationships, work, but most of all, myself. I would live with regrets and that’s something I can’t do. This was me, almost 7 years ago today, fresh out of high-school, with eyes full of hope and a heart that is yet to be corrupted.