Defeat and Resurrection

Driving to school on a god-forsaken, hot morning in devilish Southern California (mornings when the sun deliberately interferes with all brain activity connected to sound judgement) I heard a lucid soul on a radio show make the claim that "your past doesn't determine who you are." My immediate reaction, almost tourettely: "yesitdoes." But after throwing my inner stubborn out the window and on to the 57 South bound freeway in a miraculous act of self-determination; I agreed, decisively. Experienced through bad decisions, I believe in re-invention and sublimation, that's how I live my life. No regrets. My simple personal philosophy. But, should the past matter if it's not a determinant of one's identity? The answer, my answer, is contradictory and confusing like most fucked up, or rather "instructive", if you like euphemisms, lessons in life. The past is an ever-lasting diary. You share parts of your past with others. This way, even if you forget about the horrible person you once were, someone will google you, travel to your navajo white colored mansion in western europe and kindly remind you, 15 years later. What I mean is, the present is more important than any past, because the future depends on it.