By now You’ve read our fucked up stories about how we used to drive around the great land down under using just our national ID-cards as driver’s licences. At one point, the situation became absolutely absurd for me. As You may recall, some evil cunt broke into The White Sabre and stole my passport, along with other things, such as GLive’s dirty underwear. From that moment on, I was in the country without any form of valid ID. The only thing I did have, was my Estonian ID-card, which only works as an ID in, well, yeah You guessed it – Estonia…
I’m from the last generation that remembers, what it was like before smart phones and the internet. Before technology took over, kids used to play outside all day. I was that kid, until computers consumed me too. These days I don’t see that many kids playing outside. They’re now either mastering the art of attention whoring on social media or playing games on their phones. I remember how people thought that the instant unlimited access to all of mankind’s knowledge would benefit everyone. That it would make everyone smarter. While it has given us some advantages, it’s also turned the average Jane and Joe into barely functioning zombies. They stopped developing themselves and started spending their time scrolling through their friends’ meaningless Facebook posts. Or sending out ‘likes’ to barely-clothed Insta-chicks.
I’ve always had this weird relationship with death. I’ve had so many near-death experiences, that it’s even hard to remember each and every one of them. The funny thing about all of them is, that I’m still very much alive. Sometimes it feels as if I have some sort of a protective shield around me. But then that begs the question of how long is that shield going to last? And why the fuck would someone or something even bother protecting me? Is it all just pure luck? Or is it something else?
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.