Ten years!
In three months and a few days, it will have been 10 years since I opened this account.
It's been a while: time sure flies! Back in 2004, I would have been 13-going-on-14. That means I would have been in 8th grade, finishing up middle school. Funny, but I remember having this journal earlier. Must be why I kept the "since 2k2!" tagline somewhere in my profile. I made it a habit to go through and delete my old entries periodically. This is why there is absolutely no content here.
I've looked back at the last 80-some entries from the last few years -- mostly of me being in college -- and I can find no fault in erasing my inane and completely irrelevant ramblings: stories nobody found funny; anecdotes nobody could relate to; personal discoveries that, in retrospect, seem obvious; opinions that I had no business sharing; cryptically vague and attention-seeking posts that I have grown a severe distaste for. Going back and seeing all those posts bring back memories of an obnoxious and crude teenager. I'd like to forget these things, but I don't think I can. I was never great at memorizing things for class, but I have always had a great memory of all my personal failings. Maybe that's true of other people as well, but I can't speak for them.
I'd like to think I've grown to be a better person than what I was before, but it might be impossible for me to tell due to my massive personal bias. Sometimes I think back to my past, and consider that perhaps I'm a little too harsh on my past self: at least some of the decisions I made back then were not terrible.
Ten years ago the only search results that showed up for my "Zecro" alias were all my accounts. I don't think I've ever mentioned the origin of that name, so allow me to indulge myself with another inane story. It started with a game called Tombmaster, and an obnoxious name composed of 0s and 1s. The first character of the name was a 0, so the classmates I was playing Tombmaster with asked me "so, just call you 'zero?'" I thought about it overnight, and decided to put a "c" in the middle of "zero." And I've had this alias ever since.
I've since learned not to use the same alias for everything. Unfortunately, I've irrevocably tied myself to it, and continue to use it. In light of this, I've gone and f-locked the older entries in this journal, and will probably be deleting them later, once I absorb them all along with the shame of having penned them. As always, nothing of value will be lost.
So, to whoever cares to read this ever, be it myself, or someone else, that is why there's nothing here.
There never really was anything here in the first place.
So allow me to share another one of those personal discoveries that will seem obvious in retrospect. If you don't have anything to say, you should say nothing. If writing helps you organize your thoughts, open up a text file, type away, then close it without saving changes. Your thoughts are in your head, and they will continue to be there no matter what happens to the things you wrote. Even if you forget the details, you will remember the important parts.
Anything you say should be worth sharing.
It's been a while: time sure flies! Back in 2004, I would have been 13-going-on-14. That means I would have been in 8th grade, finishing up middle school. Funny, but I remember having this journal earlier. Must be why I kept the "since 2k2!" tagline somewhere in my profile. I made it a habit to go through and delete my old entries periodically. This is why there is absolutely no content here.
I've looked back at the last 80-some entries from the last few years -- mostly of me being in college -- and I can find no fault in erasing my inane and completely irrelevant ramblings: stories nobody found funny; anecdotes nobody could relate to; personal discoveries that, in retrospect, seem obvious; opinions that I had no business sharing; cryptically vague and attention-seeking posts that I have grown a severe distaste for. Going back and seeing all those posts bring back memories of an obnoxious and crude teenager. I'd like to forget these things, but I don't think I can. I was never great at memorizing things for class, but I have always had a great memory of all my personal failings. Maybe that's true of other people as well, but I can't speak for them.
I'd like to think I've grown to be a better person than what I was before, but it might be impossible for me to tell due to my massive personal bias. Sometimes I think back to my past, and consider that perhaps I'm a little too harsh on my past self: at least some of the decisions I made back then were not terrible.
Ten years ago the only search results that showed up for my "Zecro" alias were all my accounts. I don't think I've ever mentioned the origin of that name, so allow me to indulge myself with another inane story. It started with a game called Tombmaster, and an obnoxious name composed of 0s and 1s. The first character of the name was a 0, so the classmates I was playing Tombmaster with asked me "so, just call you 'zero?'" I thought about it overnight, and decided to put a "c" in the middle of "zero." And I've had this alias ever since.
I've since learned not to use the same alias for everything. Unfortunately, I've irrevocably tied myself to it, and continue to use it. In light of this, I've gone and f-locked the older entries in this journal, and will probably be deleting them later, once I absorb them all along with the shame of having penned them. As always, nothing of value will be lost.
So, to whoever cares to read this ever, be it myself, or someone else, that is why there's nothing here.
There never really was anything here in the first place.
So allow me to share another one of those personal discoveries that will seem obvious in retrospect. If you don't have anything to say, you should say nothing. If writing helps you organize your thoughts, open up a text file, type away, then close it without saving changes. Your thoughts are in your head, and they will continue to be there no matter what happens to the things you wrote. Even if you forget the details, you will remember the important parts.
Anything you say should be worth sharing.