It's another late night in which I know I have to get up for work in about four and a half hour, but I don't care. I just can't sleep. I mean, I probably could sleep if I wanted to, but I just don't want to. I feel like there are so many other things I could be doing to feel "productive". Productive is a relative term that I'm using to mean "blog" in this instance.
The past couple weeks have seen some pretty exciting nights for me, and most of the exciting nights involved either drinking or smoking. If I had to sum up the events in one word, I'd stand the risk of looking like a "fag" by using the word "friendship". The nights I've been spending with my friends have really helped me define what it means to be happy. Without them, I wouldn't have the happiness that I'm holding so valuable in life.
I've been spending a lot of time analyzing my past lately, and making comparisons between my present self and myself five years ago. Let's start with the five years ago version. The year was 2007. I had just arrived at Morehead State University for my first year of college. The campus life was great. There were so many new faces, and it sort of represented the opportunity for a fresh start. Sure, I wasted that opportunity by doing absolutely nothing to change myself, but the opportunity was there none the less. I was afraid of alcohol for what it did to my dad. I was afraid of nicotine for what it did to my mom. I wouldn't touch drugs out of fear of what they'd do to my legal status. The most experimentation I found myself participating in was the sort of thing that only comes up after a night of partying.
Let's take a second to analyze me now. I find myself drinking when the opportunity arises, and smoking is a daily habit of mine now so long as I have four dollars in my wallet. It's a huge change from the kid that would break down at the sight of his friends enjoying themselves whilst partaking in the more dangerous relaxation methods.
I compare the two and wonder how these guys would get along if they ever met. What would current-me say if he met straight-edge-me? I'm almost certain that we'd hate each other from both ends, and for reasons that we'd both feel justified in. Young me was uptight and stubborn. He was afraid to try new things, and seemed like a very closed-minded dude. Current-me gave in to peer pressure and relies on crutches to relax in his day to day life. The one thing that we had in common was that we were both pretty happy, and that's the one thing that tears the thought from my mind. I was happy then, and I'm happy now. It's hard to say that I grew through the experiences since I don't think I'm any more or less happy today than I was then. It's just an interesting thing that stays on my mind at times. If I could go back in time and speak to young-me, I'd probably call him a faggot and offer him a smoke.
Back to the friends. A big constant in all of this is that I've always felt a strong connection to those around me. I've never really been short of friends. I love the conversations that we share, and I love the experiences even more.
I don't really know where this post was going, so I'll just end it with this, the moment I realized that Pinkie Pie was my favorite pony:
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