Seventeen


What makes me no good?

Seriously? Is there a big [RANCID] stamp on my forehead. Maybe I should because maybe it's right in front of my face, but I cant seem to see it.

What is 17? What about who I am? What about my sense of humor and maturity and intelligence? What about the fact that my heart breaks for other peoples' misery and I adore children and dont hurt animals? I make donations to church and various charities. I reach out to a person in need.

I have a job. I go to school. I strive to make better choices. I dont steal. I have morals. I care about my friends and my family. I even care about people I dont know.

I have a heart. A head. Feet. Eyes.

It's my world. I have full use of every limb and an IQ above 70. That means my life is still mine to live.

Is all this voided out by the fact that I am still considered a minor? Im still a person, arent I? No less than anyone else.

So maybe my hormones are still flying all over the place and my emotions are slightly unstable, but that makes for me. I dont get it.

What about me makes me dangerous to be near? Im not poisonous. I dont eat kittens for lunch and I wont lead you into a life of evil. I will not corrupt you. I will not murder you.

Give me a better reason than that I dont know any better. I know well enough what's best for me.

It's just a number. Not the sign of the devil.

2003-05-28 - 8:29 p.m.
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about me
My name is Colby. Im 19 years old and in my first year of college in Pennsylvnia. This diary dates back to my junior year of highschool. It's incredibly pointless, but it's mine.


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