What A Difference 20 Years Can Make

When I was 14 I would have (and did) spend every waking hour of my existance trying to fit in, wear the right clothes, say the proper “smart-assy” things, and dread like hell ever pissing my friends off because I didn’t want to be alone in social Siberia.

 

And now? At age 34? It sure feels good being secure enough telling someone to go and fuck themselves with a smile on my face to boot.

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2 thoughts on “What A Difference 20 Years Can Make

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