Here is a story I may never get back to writing. It is semi-autobiographical, and sent me into a two month depression the first time I tried writing it. So chances are I won't ever get back to it but here you go. Ollie 101
As I sit here in front of my computer screen, typing out my past, present, my hopes for the future, I find myself caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. Like the floodgates of an ocean poured onto land, I find the Now washed away and replaced with the haunting ghosts of the past. My past. I've always run from it, and yet now I feel compelled to sit down with it, stare it brazenly in the eyes, and ask it what it wants of me.
I have not lived very long. As of the moment I am writing this I am twenty years old, five months, and twenty-seven days. Never did I think I'd make it past high school. Something had me convinced that I'd die, not only a virgin, but long before my eighteenth birthday. I still am not sure if I am alive, or if I did pass away some time ago.
One thing is for certain- the past doesn't die.
The past stays with me, all around, every day. My fears, my hopes, my shattered dreams. They envelop me like huge blankets of silk, barely noticeable but so real, so there. I can reach for these thoughts, and they slip away, through my fingers like air. Other times, they wrap around my thoughts and take control.
Some things can't be ignored. Some things won't be.
I won't lie to you. I know I'll want to, and I'll probably slip in some half truths here and there, but on the whole I promise not to lie. I may leave things out, I may dance around the topic, but sooner or later I'll get it right. Sooner or later, you'll know all about me.