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Seven years ago yesterday, I was 14. I didn't turn 14 that day, it was just my age. Also, the towers fell. It was September 11th.

Seven years is a pretty long time. Looking back, I wonder what it would be like if I had known what the next seven years would be like, for me. I had a lot of hard times coming to me. Some good times too, but also lot of shit. Depression, stress, some drugs, fights. I lost friends, gained friends, and some things changed while others stayed the same. You know, life.

A remember being confused as hell when they said we were going to invade Iraq because of 9/11. The people who attacked civilians in New York were from Saudi Arabia, and worked for a terrorist group in Afganistan. So what's up with Iraq? I remember becoming jaded as the tragedy was used as an excuse to kill people and take away our liberties. Now the only people who say, "remember the towers" are far-right-wing republicans, but it happened to all of us.

I looked at the past seven years of my life yesterday. It looks like one of those shitty roads they have in Vermont, up in the woods. Strewn all along the rutted road are pieces of my old ride, an '86 Benz. A couple of yards back the whole damn exhaust fell off, and this ride is fucking cashed. Ok, so I stretched that a little, but you get it, right? I need a new ride, a new motive, a new way. If you ask me, we all do.