Its been ages since I logged in here, it seems. Well, logged in to do anything but look over messages and clear them.

I'm slowly coming to see who I really was, back in the day. More than just physically with my warped fashion sense, I mean truly who I was. Self-destruction was my game. It made sense. Maybe not full out, gun to the head style, but the urge to end things was always there. However, I never looked at why. Sure, my life sucked as a kid. Sure, I didn't, and still don't, fit into a normal role in society. But wasn't that the point? Hell, what WAS the point?

Well, I find myself seeing something that I never saw before. The reality was that I was rebelling. Sure, it was all in the wrong way. Now, I see a better way.

What I was just needs to be caught and refined. Turn it from a kid with black clothes and a chip on his shoulder into something new. A man with a black soul, and no problem tearing everything down. I was happy there, once before, in my personal hell. I felt powerful, like I had something to say. Now, I feel silenced.

This isn't resistance. This isn't rebellion. This is reclamation.