Being grown up isn't half as fun as growing up.

The other day when my flatmate came home with her old diaries I felt disappointed that I had never kept a regular diary. She read me all of her entries from the last 10 years and I wished that I could have a crystal ball into the past. Then I looked at this, my blog. My first entry was just over 2 years ago when I was 18. I still feel 18 and I don't feel that 2 years is a long time. However, looking at my old words I feel completely different. I am watching my past like a film in rewind or through an aquarium. This is why, even though I am increasingly slack with my posts, I find it hard to get rid of it and I don't feel I will ever get rid of it. Like certain songs, this will remind me of a huge part of my life that I want to remember. This is every era and I often cringe reading it and maybe sometimes even I don't understand what I am talking about but it will remain here forever.

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