memories
There are times I sit here, listening usually to pearl jam, or Use your Illusion 1&2 from guns and roses... and I remember happy simple times with my family.
I remember car trips out to Chain-O-Lakes state park, where we'd go for walks, or picnics. I remember cool, breezy days walking along trails, riding with my parents. I remember fondly other timesof car rides while reading stories of dragons and wizards, with my parents in the front of the car, while we headed off to some far flung city, an hour or two away, just to have something to do. I remember times lost in my books, fantasizing about being one of the people in the book, a fightermage or some such person, hoping to find my mate while battling lizardmen.
I remember curled up in my parent's recliner, bowl of ramen noodles beside me, can of Dr. Pepper next to it. I remember the warm glow of a lamp illuminating my blanket covered lap as I read those books, hearing the hum of my father's fan as he slept in the other room.
Sometimes I remember those times, and my heart aches. I miss it. I miss it badly. Not so much the reading part and ramen. I can do that here. But I miss the lack of worry, of tension, of having to provide instead of being provided for. I miss the comfort of parents nearby, always there incase i need them. I miss going with them on drives and trips. I hardly ever see them and they keep aging and one day they'll be gone. My brother too, can't leave him out. Times spent with him, watching sci-fi or cartoons, playing video games and going places with him as well.
Sure, there were frustrating times, and those, at the time, did stand out, but looking back I realize just how unimportant those times were compared to the multitudes of good that there were. Little things that, at the time, I treasured, but only a little. Looking back, those little treasured moments were so indescribably valuable that I cling to them. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to me, and tell me to treasure that time.
I think I did, actually, because even then I told myself: "The best age to be is 17.. you're not an adult, you have few if any responsibilities, you can't be drafted for war, you don't have to vote, ..." you just have no pressure except for school pressures. but at that age you realize that school isn't everything so the pressure isn't so great.
I'm twenty five years old now. 8 years older than I was then.... I honestly don't feel a whole lot different. I look at my hands and they look the same. I look at my face and I look almost the same. I talk the same and act the same.... maybe not. I listen to my own mind and the only difference I see in there is there's less darkness and angst.
Maybe this is where I freeze in time like so many other 'adults' before me.. like when your parents keep listening to 'classic rock'... the songs they grew up with, when they're forty. Maybe I'm at the point where I try to stay where I'm at, refusing to like what's new because it's "Not as good as it used to be"... that new technologies are 'confusing' and 'all the music today sucks'.
I hope not, but I saw it in my brother, my parents, on tv, on relatives and others around me. This is about the age you 'freeze' in time. I'm at that point in my life where I'm going from childhood to adulthood (in my opinion).
I'm about to get married (June 11th, 2005 for those counting) to a beautiful, talented, and fun girl, we're looking at building a house soon ($140,000 home. ... scary), going to have a mortgage, going to have kids eventually... Going to become a parent. This is a fork in a road in which one road is blocked with "Under construction" and the other is "Off limits". I'm afraid of what's ahead, because what's behind me is familiar, warm, comfortable.
I don't speak of this fear often.. it's a small fear, but it's a small like a virus is small... I don't want it to permeate me entirely and ruin me. I know my future is bright, happy, and full of joy and success. It's a done deal. however, this fear still tingles inside of me, like that itch under your skin that, no matter how much you scratch, never goes away.
It will eventually, in time, when I plunge headlong into the future, but this time, no longer will I be a lone traveller through the murky fog of the unknown. No. Beside me will be the fair skin and blue eyes of my wife, helping to guide me through our future together with confidence and faith in ourselves.
So I guess these fears, these tinglings of unrest are unfounded. Though they still are hard to ignore. Part of my head tries to worry, but the other four fifths rail against it, standing en masse, holding sticks and stones, expecting to break the bones of the nay sayer inside my own mind.
Between you and me... I kinda hope they do.
Peace, my readers. Leave me some wisdom.
I remember car trips out to Chain-O-Lakes state park, where we'd go for walks, or picnics. I remember cool, breezy days walking along trails, riding with my parents. I remember fondly other timesof car rides while reading stories of dragons and wizards, with my parents in the front of the car, while we headed off to some far flung city, an hour or two away, just to have something to do. I remember times lost in my books, fantasizing about being one of the people in the book, a fightermage or some such person, hoping to find my mate while battling lizardmen.
I remember curled up in my parent's recliner, bowl of ramen noodles beside me, can of Dr. Pepper next to it. I remember the warm glow of a lamp illuminating my blanket covered lap as I read those books, hearing the hum of my father's fan as he slept in the other room.
Sometimes I remember those times, and my heart aches. I miss it. I miss it badly. Not so much the reading part and ramen. I can do that here. But I miss the lack of worry, of tension, of having to provide instead of being provided for. I miss the comfort of parents nearby, always there incase i need them. I miss going with them on drives and trips. I hardly ever see them and they keep aging and one day they'll be gone. My brother too, can't leave him out. Times spent with him, watching sci-fi or cartoons, playing video games and going places with him as well.
Sure, there were frustrating times, and those, at the time, did stand out, but looking back I realize just how unimportant those times were compared to the multitudes of good that there were. Little things that, at the time, I treasured, but only a little. Looking back, those little treasured moments were so indescribably valuable that I cling to them. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to me, and tell me to treasure that time.
I think I did, actually, because even then I told myself: "The best age to be is 17.. you're not an adult, you have few if any responsibilities, you can't be drafted for war, you don't have to vote, ..." you just have no pressure except for school pressures. but at that age you realize that school isn't everything so the pressure isn't so great.
I'm twenty five years old now. 8 years older than I was then.... I honestly don't feel a whole lot different. I look at my hands and they look the same. I look at my face and I look almost the same. I talk the same and act the same.... maybe not. I listen to my own mind and the only difference I see in there is there's less darkness and angst.
Maybe this is where I freeze in time like so many other 'adults' before me.. like when your parents keep listening to 'classic rock'... the songs they grew up with, when they're forty. Maybe I'm at the point where I try to stay where I'm at, refusing to like what's new because it's "Not as good as it used to be"... that new technologies are 'confusing' and 'all the music today sucks'.
I hope not, but I saw it in my brother, my parents, on tv, on relatives and others around me. This is about the age you 'freeze' in time. I'm at that point in my life where I'm going from childhood to adulthood (in my opinion).
I'm about to get married (June 11th, 2005 for those counting) to a beautiful, talented, and fun girl, we're looking at building a house soon ($140,000 home. ... scary), going to have a mortgage, going to have kids eventually... Going to become a parent. This is a fork in a road in which one road is blocked with "Under construction" and the other is "Off limits". I'm afraid of what's ahead, because what's behind me is familiar, warm, comfortable.
I don't speak of this fear often.. it's a small fear, but it's a small like a virus is small... I don't want it to permeate me entirely and ruin me. I know my future is bright, happy, and full of joy and success. It's a done deal. however, this fear still tingles inside of me, like that itch under your skin that, no matter how much you scratch, never goes away.
It will eventually, in time, when I plunge headlong into the future, but this time, no longer will I be a lone traveller through the murky fog of the unknown. No. Beside me will be the fair skin and blue eyes of my wife, helping to guide me through our future together with confidence and faith in ourselves.
So I guess these fears, these tinglings of unrest are unfounded. Though they still are hard to ignore. Part of my head tries to worry, but the other four fifths rail against it, standing en masse, holding sticks and stones, expecting to break the bones of the nay sayer inside my own mind.
Between you and me... I kinda hope they do.
Peace, my readers. Leave me some wisdom.