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Time Travel and 'Journals'.

19 February 201010:10AMrants

Time travel is impossible. I can say this for a fact. How do I know? It's not because of the irrefutable laws of Physics, it's not because the technology is impossible. It's because if it were possible, the past would be filled with people going around and beating the crap out of their past selves for being... foolish. Yeah. "Foolish". If I said the word I was actually thinking, it would pollute the minds of the small children who I know are absolutely totally reading this.

So yeah. This is brought on by the fact that I found some 'journals' from when I was about... however old I was in 2003. Ten, I think. I didn't even know I had a journal... Go figure. And I say 'journal' in the very loosest sense of the word, as much as a paragraph of straight recounts of one random day's events followed by your choice of either an exceptionally poor joke or a token "I feel x" can be called a journal. Some of the entries aren't even that, just inane lists of Wot I Did On My Holidays or Things I Got For My Birthday.

Okay, sure I'm being a little harsh on my-10-year-old-self, but it pretty much sucks, and being your stereotypical intrepid Lit student, I want to analyse why, and when the author is yourself, that makes it a whole lot easier. And before you start, yes, I realise the irony of writing about how you suck at writing journals in what is, essentially, an online journal. Hush now.

The root cause of this not-really-good-ness, at first thought, seems to be that I wasn't actually writing it for myself. The only reason I even had a journal in the first place was because I got one for Christmas, from my Grandma, and my parents sort of encouraged me to fill it out, and I did, but not really because I wanted to- I'm pretty sure that on some level I was writing it for my parents to look at, because it was their idea, not mine, and to look at it, it shows an incredible level of self-censorship. Like, my 'entry' for December 1 2004 ends with "Today also we had the school and house captain's elections! I hope I win!!". Aside from the obvious abuse of exclamation marks (as ten-year-olds are wont to do), there is the fact that I totally botched the speech, had almost no chance ('cause the captains are always Good At Sports™, which I definitely wasn't), and really actually didn't want to be captain, as evidenced by the enormous gush of relief I felt when my name wasn't called. But is any of this in my journal? Nuh-uh, because it wasn't written for me, it was written for some unknown parental figure who therefore had no interest in what went on inside my head, only what I did at school today dear.

The other factor is that 10-year-old me was, to put it frankly, a dick. I blame PEAC and good maths test results for this, as both had ingrained in my self-centered little mind that I was easily the smartest person on the planet. This is clearly _not true. _In retrospect, I probably wasn't even the smartest in the class. This is what makes me want to punch myself to the ground, until my face is covered in blood, and scream at myself that I am not the smartest person in the world, that I am not even close, and that for the benefit of both my own sanity and that of everyone around me, I need to kindly remove my own head from my own asshole and wake up to the real world. To follow my theme of backing myself up with literary evidence from myself, I present Quotes™: "My PEAC Course has come to an end" - (Overly elaborate grammatical structure + Reference to extension course = ZOMG LOOK I HAZ SMART!!1!).

So yeah. This is why we can't have time travel- younger versions of yourself are just too difficult to deal with. On the other hand, Hooray for character development, right? :D

-Rockwell

*PS: @Any armchair psychologists out there, please don't take this as some form of mental problem... I'm perfectly sane, I swear. ;)

< So we went to see Daybreakers. An actual weekend for once. (And other unrelated things.) >