I started to read what I just wrote and began to bore the shit out of myself. I said NO EDITING dammit!

Must we look back to learn? Must we make sense of our past to further enjoy our future? Maybe so. I guess my past has just always been something that I didn't really want to look back at? Maybe it's b/c my childhood was rotten w/ divorce and abandonment. Maybe it's because my adolescence was rotten w/ dealing w/ wanting to be w/ older men and lying about it (and by lying I mean dedicating every second of every day to trying not to be picked up as Gay.) Maybe too it's because my years following adolescence were rotten w/ drug abuse trying to mask the inability to be myself b/c I felt that exposing my true self would be the end all. Looking back - in a rare moment of looking back, I realize that I completely avoided looking back. HOLY SHIT! My younger years were fucking awful. I mean FUCKING AWFUL.

But it wasn't all bad. There were many many many moments, stretches of amazing enjoyment of life. What were they? Soccer (being part of a team - I really miss that), Friends, Golf (the thrill of preparing to play your best, and competing to WIN). I'm sure there are others, but this is boring me and isn't the direction I was looking to go.

My past was fucked up. Somehow though, identifying that, expressing that, I realize that I did have a past. And I can learn from it. I'm not condemned to it. I can re-emerse myself in the things I loved to do, and I can seek out the things I missed out on. It's not a death sentence to have lived a fucked up life. The death sentence comes from either avoiding it's reality, or trying to live your life shaped around the notions of what it should have been. I do have a past, and I do have a future.

Cool.