2011 version of me was awesome. He had it all figured out. He managed to achieve something great, pull himself out of two year old rut that he was in. He’s dead now, one major fuck up during the summer holidays killed him. All that remains is the weaker version of himself, confused, unable to face the problems he created less than thirty days ago. Running away from them like a little bitch. I’ve been reading the thoughts he wrote down on his journal and he seemed to have everything figured out. He had a precocious self-awareness, seemed to understand his surrounding and was able to stay sane enough to prevent his world from imploding. I need the 2011 version of myself, I miss him. I miss his wisdom, I want him to come back and help me stay off alcohol. I want him to help me clean up the mess I’ve gotten myself in. I want many things from him but I can’t have none of them ’cause he’s dead. All I have to do now is improvise and hope that the 2012 version of me improves.