When I was a kid I was not at all about being young, I prided myself with a maturity no-one else had. I saw things which the others did not see. I knew things that the others did not know. Yet now, obvious to the naked eye, I am doing my best to regress. I jokingly adopt an immaturity that is neither a true reflection of my character nor my age. It's obvious in my language and in the way I express myself. It's obvious in what I choose to devote my interests to.
I do not want to grow older. I want to stay youthful. I want to go back and change all of my mistakes. I don't want to know myself as well as I do. I wish I didn't have an answer to every question I could ask myself. I don't want to be me anymore. This is what kills me. There have been many times when "me" is all I have had and it didn't matter.
For the first time in my life I well and truly hate myself. And I know why. If I didn't, I'd be a whole lot happier.