Which Reminds Me

Yes, how well I remember the adolescent angst of high school when I was writing in my diary and/or journal lamenting how everybody hates me and how I have no friends and so on. My journal and also poems were full of mostly that, and also somewhat in college. Yes, well, and life goes on. I have not seen that journal for a long time, perhaps I lost it somewhere, but somehow these adolescent pangs no longer trouble me so much. So what if some clueless person hates me? I no longer care so much about people's opinions in that way.