Disclaimer: This was written around the date shown (long ago), but I have decided to leave it here for the purpose of “personal history,” more or less. These feelings are probably outdated, but I like coming back and reading what I’ve written, occasionally.

Hi, welcome to my page. Here is where I place everything that I really want to say, but don’t necessarily want to say it directly, nor have any direct involvement in who sees it. Granted anyone may, but nobody can say it is directed at them in particular, because they may have just stumbled upon it by chance—I suppose it is a reward for the curious.

Just for clarification purposes, there is a chance that you, who are viewing this page, do not no me by name. In that case, you probably know me by one of three aliases: pmarks00, ged, or PM4RK5. But then again, if you don’t know me personally, then maybe you shouldn’t be here…

As a Junior in High School, so many things have changed. Two years ago, I had no idea what this year would bring. Ignorance really was bliss. I was content (or was I? I cannot honestly say. I told myself I was, but maybe I wasn’t…) with being an “outcast” and having only “friends.” This year, I have branched out and “tried something new,” so to speak.

I didn’t, however, have any idea that I could be so depressed as I have been, upon occasion this year. As I write this, you could say that I am. I am not mad at anyone—it is nobody’s fault but my own. There were, however, things that were said, questions that were asked, and that in hindsight, I shouldn’t have asked.

Political issues within the band, social issues with myself and others, trauma on the open road, and stress from schoolwork. All of these have struck me with a force that has knocked the wind out of my esteem and personality. I had no clue that I would have to deal with this stuff. With great power comes great responsiblity, and I have mishandled that responsiblity. My inquisitiveness has finally gotten the best of me too, asking questions to which I would have rather not heard the answer, but truthfully felt a need to know. What causes us to ask questions we fear the answers to? Some morbid curiosity that resides within all of us, and it has finally struck me with a blow. Neither a first nor last, but undeniably the hardest.

My values have played in to this too. Having, in the past, been the victim of social critique, I cannot allow myself to do the same disservice to anyone else, whether it comes from me, or comes as a result of being associated with me. I have always been willing to sacrifice myself for the benefit of others, but I fear I have gone too far this time—ignorance is bliss.

Sorry about the rant, I had to place it somewhere. Don’t worry about me though, I’m not really unstable, per se—just distraught. As everything does, I’m sure it will pass—or as I found out with my wreck this summer, I will at least come to terms with what has happend and move on, regardless of the fact that I cannot let it go. The causes of this lament are known by those who are involved, however many people that may be. I apologize if they read this, as it is not intended to hurt anyone. Thank you for reading.

Persuing unrequited relationships would be an exercise in futility. However, that is a painful question to ask—yet it should probably be asked anyway. I dwell on things far too long…