When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares into you. Also, it says hi.

Well would you look at that.

I went ahead and made another blog. A few years back I made one. Looking back and reading it, I remembered everything. From the reason I started writing it, to the reason why I continued it (because they are mutually exclusive of each other, mind), to the reason why I stopped. I have to say, if you're like me and you've written a fair share about your thoughts and feelings from a few years back, reading them again makes you more than cringe: It's downright torturous. It makes the gnashing of teeth sound like a healthy lifestyle choice. Reading about your teen angst is fucking annoying, is what I'm trying to say.

Some people, when looking back at the things they've done, or had happened to them, feel a profound sense of sadness. Sometimes it's depressive. Sometimes it makes you want to just close the tab and open up something else. A video. A funny post. Anything to make you forget you ever read it. To forget it ever happened.

I'd be lying if I said I'm immune to these sorts of things. I'm not. But I've realized something: When you stare into the abyss, while it does stare into you too, you're still in the position of power. You are, and have always been, the person in the present: Capable, invincible, ready to shape the abyss inside of you and turn it into something great.

For the past few years I've forgotten a few things. As a first post, now is a great time to remember and reaffirm. I am, and have always been, John Paolo Bago, the man. I have a few simple rules: I say what I mean, I mean what I say, I never regret, and I hold things sacred right next to my heart.

The abyss called. It says hi. I said hi back to it. It being the polite thing to do.