I found an old journal from 2006, the summer of it, and I read the entire thing before I considered burning it, decided that I'd probably somehow end up burning down all of Lincoln University, and settled for throwing it in the kitchen trash can.

I was the sort of person in terms of my love life--which seemed to have consumed me but that's partially I think because I didn't really like my friends that summer--who I've spent the past couple of years making fun of, ya dig?

I couldn't find the girl who knew who she was and it freaked me out until I realized that it's okay, I just had no idea who I was then so I kept looking for me in others.