Wasted years

Two years of my life gone…and for what? A couple hundred dollars. I could’ve made that in a week working a decent job. I was too hard-headed for that though. I just wanted quick money and I didn’t care how I got it.

I’ve robbed people, broke into houses, sold drugs and sold my stuff. I loved money, but I loved to get high and have a good time more. It’s been that way since the first time I ever smoked weed. Sure I’ve had a lot of fun, but when I think back to all the people I’ve hurt, it just wasn’t worth it. It only took me seven years to realize it.

I could never repay all the money I’ve stolen. I put myself where I am today.

Hopefully, the people I hurt can forgive me, but I know there is no reason why they should and I wouldn’t hold it against them if they didn’t. All I can do is continue what I’m doing and hopefully inspire others before they make the same mistakes I did.

Chances

I have to be honest. I don’t deserve any more chances.

I keep hearing people say things like “Here’s your shot at a second chance.” I’ve had so many second chances that I can’t count them all.

On my juvenile criminal record I have something like 14 felonies and 8 – 12 misdemeanors. Whenever I think about that, it seems to me that all hope is lost. But for some reason, I find myself straining and fighting, so that I don’t continue down the same path.

Even though I know it’s hard to change, I can’t help but try. I find myself reading books and looking for anything to better myself, and sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.

I don’t even care if I have the worst job in the world when I get out. I just can’t stand to look in a mirror and look at myself and see nothing but a loser. I want to be able to at least say ‘I’m trying’.