Back in my old bedroom. It's both odd yet comforting at once. I'm nestled in bed, the rain gently pelting against my bedroom window. Even my old lava lamp is still here, casting blue shadows on the walls. I remember buying it when I was about thirteen or so. After earning money baby sitting, I went to Spencer's Gifts and picked it up.
My parents are sound asleep as I type this entry. They rarely make it past ten o'clock. I remember when I was younger, I could always sneak downstairs late at night and watch whatever I liked on cable TV, seeing how they weren't awake to stop me. It's then that I discovered such films as Blue Velvet and The Hot Spot and even the animated classic Heavy Metal.
If there's one thing that my adolescence reminds me of -- besides boredom -- it's discovery. Discovery of myself, the outside world, and the kind of people and places I hoped to meet and visit. Now, being back in my childhood bedroom, it's like I'm revisiting my teenage self, trite as that might sound.
Assuming I could travel back in time, what would the outcome be? Would my teenage self be repulsed at the kind of person I grew to be? Would sex work strike him as a field reserved only for those with tragic upbringings and drug addictions?
There's no way to tell, I suppose. And as I look around my room now, marveling at all of the artifacts my mother never threw out (books, CDs, old VHS tapes, etc.) I'm amazed at how much I really have changed as a person.
God only knows where I'll be in another ten years or so. Hopefully, fate and/or destiny will treat me well. I've certainly made a good life for myself in Miami, and I see no reason for that good luck not to continue.
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