All that could have been
Have you ever felt a sudden jolt, say, while you're driving home from work or pooping, about the meaning of your life? No, not the hair-greying, eyeball-popping rambles with big words that is psychobabble from French philosophers (OK I tried reading Jean-Paul Sartre's Being and Nothingness and I read Nausea but eff you for quizzing me! Argh!)
You know once upon a time when you were young and you had dreams, crazy, unrealistic dreams like having your own media empire or owning your own island or being a rock star *cough* and then you grew up, and life happens.
You learned to live with failure, with a mountain of disappointments and to see those you love slip away from you. People grow old, people die, people go away and you know that just like at birth, you're alone.
How you looked with envy at those who've made it, those who have more, who have what YOU want but you know you could never get. All those optimists telling you nothing is impossible, and you tell them to go screw themselves from all angles.
And then one day, while innocuously going about your business you had what is sort of an epiphany. You've come to terms that there are dreams that will remain just that and not everything will go your way. But despite all that, you're somewhat happy.
How do you explain this? While I ponder that, check this out.
Could it be age? I'm more than a quarter century old now. In dog years I'm an old fart, full of wisdom and missing brain cells. Maybe I've just plain given up? Tell you the truth, I'm not a defeatist, I don't give up easy. But there are things that I believe are beyond what I can do and once again, life is unfair. True story.
You know once upon a time when you were young and you had dreams, crazy, unrealistic dreams like having your own media empire or owning your own island or being a rock star *cough* and then you grew up, and life happens.
You learned to live with failure, with a mountain of disappointments and to see those you love slip away from you. People grow old, people die, people go away and you know that just like at birth, you're alone.
How you looked with envy at those who've made it, those who have more, who have what YOU want but you know you could never get. All those optimists telling you nothing is impossible, and you tell them to go screw themselves from all angles.
And then one day, while innocuously going about your business you had what is sort of an epiphany. You've come to terms that there are dreams that will remain just that and not everything will go your way. But despite all that, you're somewhat happy.
How do you explain this? While I ponder that, check this out.
Could it be age? I'm more than a quarter century old now. In dog years I'm an old fart, full of wisdom and missing brain cells. Maybe I've just plain given up? Tell you the truth, I'm not a defeatist, I don't give up easy. But there are things that I believe are beyond what I can do and once again, life is unfair. True story.
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