It’s like, right, when you’re six years old and you decide you’re going to be best friends, complete with a handshake and all? Hopeful. It’s like it was there immediately. And then it just… wasn’t.

It’s like when I was nine, and I decided to run away. It was four o’clock, September afternoon, right in the daylight. But I thought I was just so badass, you know? So rebellious. I ran all the way down the street, pausing a second at the bus stop on the corner before realizing I had no money, then went and sat on the steps outside of a 7-11. Some smoking teenagers looked at me funny. They were dressed in all leather, one with a bright blue mohawk. That’s when I got a little scared decided to go back home, ‘so I wouldn’t end up like them,’ I reasoned. It’s the foolishness I had, and the innocence. I was so naive, and I so thought I could do something on my own. It’s like that.

That’s still me. So full of false determination, and then not at all. Story of my life.