Yesterday

         The cold seeped through the thick blankets, waking me with its icy touch. Another winter morning in Minneapolis, it was time to get ready before my best friend Jeff arrived. Every morning was the same. I would throw the blankets off and run to the bathroom. I turned the faucet to scalding hot and hopped into the shower. "Ah warmth!" Music filtered through the pattering of water. It was probably the Misfits, they were my favorite band.
 
         After my shower, I would throw on a t-shirt, jeans, and a flannel. Usually at about this time, Jeff would come scurrying through my bedroom window. He never used the door unless my mother was home. We lived in a ground floor two bedroom apartment. "You ready?" he would say as he lit up a cigarette. We spent the next hour "putting up" each other's hair. We both had Mohawks.
 
         I was seventeen and what some people would refer to as a "punk rocker." I had long hair that changed color every week. Sometimes it would resemble a fin. At other times, it would be several thick spikes that shot out of my skull. I had both of my ears pierced and usually wore several earrings in each ear. My usual outfit consisted of black leather engineer boots, ripped blue jeans with writing on them, a concert shirt (usually the Misfits,) a flannel shirt, and a black leather jacket with a picture of a skeleton singing into a microphone (again the Misfits) painted on the back.
 
         Music was very important to me at this time in my life, I always had something on no matter what I was doing. I could listen to just about anything, except Country music, but I preferred Hardcore Punk. This tended to drive my mother insane. "Quit playing that crap!" she would yell from the other room.
 
         Today, i look into the mirror and can see a completely different person. The scars from my earrings are still there, but the hair and my outfit have changed considerably. My hair is now short with a side part and is my natural color (it hasn't changed in seven years.) I usually wear blue jeans without the rips. Also, I wear Nike tennis shoes, the shirt is unimportant. However, I still wear a black leather jacket minus the paint.
 
         Guess I am what some would call and average guy nowadays. I don't know if I like that or not. I think that my physical likeness has changed, but I don't feel that my personality has changed a great deal. I am seven years older, wiser, and smarter.
 
         I think that time has changed me for the better. Not everyone can say this. I wouldn't change what I was and did for the world, but I think that if I hadn't changed I would be dead, or at least unemployed. Sometimes, I still get the urge to get the razor out and shave the sides of my head, not from anger, but rather to remember my past.
 
         The alarm is going off with its steady beeping noise. I look at the clock, it reads six o'clock in the evening. My girlfriend will be home soon. I hop into the shower. "Ah warmth." I rush through the usual hygienic things: brush my hair and teeth, out on deodorant, shave, and spray a little cologne. Soon it will be time to go to class. I light up a cigarette and put in a compact disc.
 
Yesterday
by Dave Powell
 
This was a fun exercise and I had fun re-typing it. This particular piece was written 13 years ago. I should add a few more chapters one of these days. :)