My name is Guillaume and I'm a 28 years old fuck up

Cryptocurrency is a concept that is very foreign to me, albeit very intriguing. I probably understand as much about it as I understand women. Hell, money in general is a very strange concept to me, and has always been. From as far as I can remember, I've always rejected any form of authority. I've always done things on my own terms, and always had strange views about the world we live in. You've guessed it, I'm neither happy nor a highly functioning member of society. I've always felt weirded out by the modern consumerism lifestyle, always felt like something wasn't right, but still, I indulge. I've never wanted to be part of the freak show, a rat in the race. Being told what to do has never sounded true. All my life I've been running away from responsabilities, adulthood, and people in general.

For the past 6 years, I've been working in a bar as a poker dealer, running my own show, trying to make sense of anything and everything. Ruining relationships with amazing happy women, destroying friendships and spending money on trivial things. I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't do drugs. As a matter of fact, I can't stand drunk people. Let's add that to the never-ending list of things I can't fucking stand. I've been numbing my pain with books, movies, and junk food. I believe I am part of a generation that has been granted the gift of seeing the big picture but with the short end of the stick. Call me a misanthrope, call me a nihilist, call me depressed, but if it weren't for my family, I would already be gone. Trying to give a purpose to my life, I reinvent myself every few months with a new passion. I'm now a chess playing, club juggling, road biking, rubik's cube solving, backflipping, jiu-jitsu fighting, guitar playing sorry excuse for a man.

I'm not entirely sure what brought me here, I think in a sense I needed an incentive to start writing. This might just be it. I doubt you will find any light in my words but I will try my best to create interesting content. I've had a diary before and it was a good outlet for my frustration. I remember stumbling upon it a few weeks ago when I was cleaning my small apartment. It had been a few years since I last wrote anything in it, mostly stories about girls and heartbreaks. Turning the pages was a sobering experience, to say the least.

For now, I'll go outside. it's 4pm and I'm still in bed. I need sunlight, and a shower.

Peace!