Teenage regression began with a broken bed on a bad day. It has since morphed into the groundbreaking realization that I am ruled by Venus, that I am made of neither ice nor stone. That I am in my 30s now, and I will expound on my passion with none of the pain. That while I am am a notoriously difficult person to get close to, I still feel. That the emotional black hole I thought was me was only a defense mechanism. That everything excellent about my teenage years was destroyed by a lack of security, and now is my chance to do it over again.

I let music speak for me more often than not, but this is something I plan to work on in the future. I want to re-learn how to use words. I have all of the time in the world. Teenage fucking rebirth.