A pep talk on aging.

A 19 year-old reminded how old I am today. No, she didn't say it, but after my roommate reminded me of how young this mutual friend of ours is (and I realized that the difference between myself and her and the difference between her and a 14 year-old was the same), I freaked out a little. But really, age shouldn't bother me (or anyone). And it never has before, I think. No need. I intend to embrace life and its continual age-giving.

I mean, without the passage of time, where would we be? Sitting ducks. Except not the normal kind (vulnerable to hunters and alligators) - ducks in monotonous timelessness.

Think about it.

... I know, right?

Boring.

So, be happy with your wrinkles and frosty hair. They aren't going away. And luckily, you haven't either.

A Small Noise from Poland

I think this is the second blog that I have created, entertained for a short while, and then left behind like one of those abandoned farmhouses by the side of the highway. Anyone could have stumbled upon it in my absence and wondered what has happened to me, who I was, where I have gone off to now, and, most importantly, why I left such a perfectly lovely little blog to crumble and fade as a result of disuse. Poor guy. I am here now. Though how long I will stay is a subject not worth conjecturing, primarily because the duration of my stay may be shorter than the conversation pertaining to it.

I am now in Poland for a brief visit and it has been almost a year since I last typed a tiny effusion into this space. I have completed one year of graduate school and have one year left. (Though sometimes I contemplate reneging on my thesis proposal and finishing at the end of this summer via an internship.) I have found a group of friends and moved to a new apartment. I have lost two grandparents to cancer. I have spent an inordinate amount of money on my car, which insists upon malfunctioning every few months. I am one year older, not much wiser, and perhaps a little more jaded.

My memory tells me how things used to be, though that, in itself, is a representation created by myself, for myself, and as a result of my past experiences and personal temperament. Therefore, it cannot be fully trusted - though it still has a semblance of truth and can serve to inspire me. This inspiration is needed to help me work backwards – to a time when I laughed more, worried less, and took more time to be of benefit to others.

God willing, I will achieve it. …Before I am 100.

Man this post sounds a little glum. But no fear! It is all in your brain. Or, I mean, you can banish the glum. Read it with a rosy tint to your prescription glasses, or put on your shades for those of you blessed with good eyesight (curse you!), and you may see a rather matter-o-fact, honest representation of my ever-changing and full-of-rich-opportunities-for-growth present. It’s good. And necessary. Etcetera.