“I can’t stop seeing the footprints of time on everyone around me. The liver spots, the multiple chins, the sagging necks, the jowls, the flaps of skin over eyes, the spotted scalps, the frown lines etched into permanence, the stooped shoulders, the sagging man breasts, the bow legs. When did it all happen? In increments, so you can’t watch out for it, you can’t fix it. One day you just wake up and discover that you got old while you were sleeping.” ~ Jonathan Tropper
I’ve always had a slight over-sensitivity to the concept of aging and the reality that just like the rest of the world, I too am falling victim to it. Out of nowhere, I realized I am 25 and that the criteria on which I measure overall success gives me a really low score. I have a lot of nothing going on and the part of me that should be grabbing life by the balls is so exhausted with defeat that it can’t muster up the energy to evoke change. I’m focusing my energy on holding the couch down and waiting for life to happen…and that space that used to be occupied by hope and faith is now completely void. I’m questioning things I never thought I’d question. My passions. My faith. Myself.
I don’t get depressed. I’m that guy who is always happy. Endorphins flow freely in me and it takes a lot to knock me down. But this situation… whatever it is, is leaving me completely and utterly lost. I’d be speechless if I weren’t such a loud mouth.
“Time will bring the real end of our trial. One day there will be no remnants, no trace no residual feelings within you. One day you wont remember me.” ~Maxwell
I’ve got more to say, but this entry is heavy enough for now.