Friday, April 4, 2008

When You Were Shouting At The Devil

High school grades, what girl you were going out with, who your friends were, what you did after school... shit. They were right. None of that really matters anymore.

Here I am now sitting in an apartment, paid for by me, about to play a video game system, paid for by me, on a nice couch, handed down from one party environment to the next. I make enough to enjoy my life, but would love to make more. I have a good amount of close friends, but not as much as I did. And a job I honestly care for, but not in the proper environment most would associate that with idea with.

And yet I never once, since 2005, needed to know how to properly read a meniscus.

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