Questions That Aged With Me
Looking at myself through the eyes of time. Me then and me now.
I was cleaning up — or at least pretending to, more like pushing dust around — when I ran into my old diary. For one year I tortured myself with this little project: one question every day, and I had to answer it, no excuses. Back then I was just starting to write. I had no clue where my thoughts would end up, or that sarcasm would one day become my second language.
Reading it now is… awkward. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I wince so hard I want to throw it back in the drawer, and then — surprise — I actually agree with my twenty-year-old self more often than I’d like to admit. So here we are. Same questions, but older me trying again. What’s changed, what hasn’t.
The entries were written in Czech. I did my best to translate them without killing their tone, but honestly the real comedy is in the originals — where I was messing around with weird word combos and clumsy phrasing, trying way too hard to sound deep.
Are you afraid of death?
2019: In a way, yes. Because once it comes, that’s the end. Nothing more will follow, and everything I’ve lived through and had will mean nothing. That’s terrifying. I’m not afraid of the process itself, because it happens every day around us. Death is everywhere. Only fools ignore it. Something has to die so we can eat. Something must always be sacrificed at the expense of others. That’s the food chain, the simplest law life runs on.
2025: These days I don’t think about death as much. I don’t believe I’m completely unafraid — survival instinct always kicks in. But as you age, you start to see it differently. I agree with my younger self that death is natural. It’s often demonized, just like anything humanity fears collectively.
Can a person be sad about something that doesn’t exist?
2019: I’d say yes. Children can be sad when they don’t get their dream toy, or when they realize they can’t go to Narnia. As teenagers we’re sad about not finding true love, or not understanding it. Adults grieve lost opportunities and wasted time. It’s desire, envy for something we lack. Something we personally can’t have. Therefore, in our reality, it doesn’t exist. It troubles us and we try to fill the gap. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. And so our longing turns into a goal we want to conquer. Maybe one day we’ll succeed…
2025: In one word — yes. I’m frustrated when my characters stay only in my head. When I close a book and realize that world will never exist, because it isn’t real. You can drown in your imagination and never manage to bring it into reality. That’s the cruelest face of the unattainable.
Who am I?
2019: I guess I’d start by saying I’m human. A human like everyone else. The same, yet different. Full of flaws, confusion, and misunderstandings. A person trying to make sense of the world. Sometimes sad, sometimes cheerful. Sometimes kind, sometimes not. Just a human being. A little stubborn and chaotic. Driven by an inner pull toward art, creation, understanding. I grasp at knowledge and try to figure out what comes next.
2025: Today I’d say I’m both creative and scientifically minded. Warm-hearted, empathetic, and stubborn. I know I have flaws, but they don’t diminish my worth. And above all — my appearance does not define my depth.
What are you good at? What comes easily to you?
2019: Does getting on people’s nerves count? I don’t think I’m at a stage yet where I can say I’m truly good at something. When it comes to creating — painting or writing — I still have a lot of work to do. At university I learn something new every day, picking up skills in the lab, in calculations, or in connecting contexts. I’m just in the process of improving. Honestly, nothing really comes to mind right now that I could claim I’m good at. Maybe I’m a perfect procrastinator, capable of eating a whole bar of chocolate in one sitting, or binge-watching an entire show in a single day. Or finishing a book in one go. Who knows, maybe I’ll figure it out with time.
2025: I’m not just passively processing the world anymore. I actually feel like I’m good at writing — though there’s still a mountain of room to grow, and I notice that every time I finish something new. Painting? Still an amateur, still calling everything “abstract” just to cover myself. Even with a degree under my belt, I’m forever greedy for more knowledge, more angles, more ways to twist the same thing around. And I’ve realized I’m decent at watching people too — catching little reactions, guessing what they’ll do next. That bleeds straight into my writing, whether I want it to or not. And yes, I’m still proudly unstoppable at reading a whole book in one sitting, driving people nuts, and devouring entire shows in a weekend. Honestly? I’ve only leveled up in those departments.
What is it like to be an adult?
2019: Sad and scary. Being a child has so many advantages… You have so much hope and so many dreams. You naively believe they’ll one day come true. Once you cross the threshold into adulthood, responsibilities and worries pour onto you. You’re accountable for yourself, you answer only to yourself. You’re responsible for your actions, your choices, your mistakes. You still have family, but you become an independent unit. It will never again be like the childhood you remember. Reality shatters.
2025: By now I see it a bit differently. Adulthood isn’t just doom and bills — it’s also chances you wouldn’t trade for anything. Some days it’s exhausting, some days it feels strangely worth it. No one tells you what to do anymore, which sounds freeing… until you realize every mistake lands squarely on you. You can’t look at the world through rose-colored glasses forever, but it doesn’t have to be flat gray either. The trick is to show up, to risk being seen, and to slowly shape a life you’d actually want to live in
Is there only one truth?
2019: They say there’s only one truth. But there isn’t. Everyone sees their own version of it. They believe in it, but for others it may not hold. There are hundreds of versions and never a clear answer. It’s strange to realize that. As kids, we believed in good and evil. We thought we knew what was true and what was a lie. But as you grow, you discover it’s not that simple. There are traps, dead ends, connections, mysteries, half-truths — and hundreds of theories about how it all really went.
2025: By now I know truth is slippery. It shows up looking noble, but half the time it’s playing its own shady little game. Everything depends on who’s telling it and why. Power loves to dress up as truth, and people are quick to buy lies if they fit the story they already want to hear. Even I don’t always trust myself — sometimes I wonder if my so-called honesty isn’t just another ego trip. With so many unknowns floating around, anyone can twist the same words into whatever they need. And the core of what was really said, and why, gets buried fast. You can speak as straight as you want, and someone will still decide it’s just another mask.
These questions never aged. I did — I grew older, maybe even wiser. And even though I laughed at some of my answers, at the anxious tangle I once was, I probably wouldn’t change a thing. That sarcasm and wit had to come from somewhere. Now we get to peek behind the curtain at how my personality has been shaped by time — and maybe in a few years, when I return to these questions again, I’ll be smiling at my current self too.
A fascinating exercise Adela and one we might all attempt. Life seems full of amazing possibilities at 20, stretching ahead of one, and can seem quite different as one gets older and looks back, perhaps with more cynicism, some regrets, and hopefully with more insight.
i love these questions so much, and the way you compared answers from then and now. something to think about trying for myself!