when i turned twelve, on what must have been a cold morning of november, after considering all the summer holidays i could possibly remember and what i had done and where i had been, i made the decision that my tenth year had been the best of my life, and all throughout my teenage years, and the summer holidays that followed, i did a pretty good job at making this belief true.

i suppose that’s where my autobiography begins, but i’m too lazy to write it, and i can’t write anyway.

i can’t actually remember much of that year when i was nine years old, and i can’t remember much of the summer holidays that preceded my tenth birthday, that’s why all i can do now is keep in mind that it was fourteen years ago.
:eek: