To contradict what I said a little over a month ago, things are good and I'm not complaining. Well, I should correct myself, I'm not complaining about my personal life, but the world around me is still a little crazy. Like those wild American elections, I will complain about this. Or the fact that it's snowing and my toasty brown heart is cold. Also let's not forget that they killed off Paris Geller in Scandal, of course I'm going to complain about this because Paris Geller was (and soon will be) one of the most iconic supporting characters of the 2000s. I used to complain a lot about everything. Not in a funny way haha, but more of a 'let me complain about everything' kind of way (also called: the pop-punk phase). I also used to write a blog about my teenage angst. Again, it wasn't exactly good. Or funny. But it would have been a great pop-punk anthem and damn right that I was in a fictional pop-punk band (tentative names: Suicide Blonde or Clinging To a Scheme). This little WordPress blog was a home for all my pubescent thoughts on whatever my mind drifted to. To be honest, I haven't really thought about the overly emotional posts I've been throwing into the blogosphere over the past few years. That blog was destined for Internet purgatory, but was never purified to become a viral paradise. Last night, I was taken on a trip down memory lane known as Tourist Attraction, the teenage angst-fueled blog I kept during my freshman year of college. It was a public diary to gain insight into my tired mind… or at least that's what I told people. Realistically, it was just a place to try to organize my thoughts that I didn't mind sharing with the people around me. Everything on the blog was classified into two different sections: ramblings...... middle of the paper.... ..I didn't think I was that person anymore. I looked at his face after these thoughts crossed my mind and saw a comforting smile. When he looked at me, I recognized that smile. He was genuine and loving. When he said the words that gave me a small anxiety attack, he meant it without bad intentions. He meant that my quirks are always the same. I still romanticize everything, I still ramble (but now with jokes!), and I still write about these thoughts in my head. These posts with nefarious titles are only three years old. Sure, a lot has happened in three years, but I think what these posts show is growth. I went from a guy who wrote about heartbreak cryptically and listened to sad white guys talk about heartbreak to a guy who is more open about his personal experiences and spins some De La Soul while he cleans. I can't complain about that.