August 21, 20xx.
I once considered August 21, 2010 the most remarkable day of my life.
Was going through one of my typical depressive droughts when I reunited with a long-lost friend from about ten years prior. The synchronicities/serendipities that led to our encounter were too plentiful and provocative to ignore. During that time I was losing my faith, but on August 21 I believed in miracles.
We were to be married on 08/21/2011, but that didn't happen. The reason why doesn't matter anymore.
After the fact I realized August 21 is the birthday of someone I had another short-lived engagement with in 2001. I "almost" accidentally got married on my former fiance's birthday ("almost" is in quotes, because even though I've been engaged three times in my life and talked about marriage with 90% of my significant others, I don't think I've ever actually almost gotten married).
There are dozens of other connections and coincidences surrounding these events, and they used to blow my mind to Mars and back. I became obsessed with noting connections between dates and numbers. A true armchair numerologist.
That old friend doesn't associate with me anymore.
A year ago, on August 21, 2015 I was sleeping on an air mattress in my grandmother's oil-slicked garage. I wasn't losing my faith this time, but I sure was ready for a pick-me-up. That night I took some lysergic acid diethylamide and had a brilliantly synchronistic and mentally/spiritually stimulating conversation with a different friend. She later described that conversation as transcendent, so I know it wasn't just me.
She doesn't associate with me anymore either. The reason why doesn't matter anymore, and it never did.
Something interesting has happened over this past year. I stopped giving a shit about August 21.
Synchronicites don't blow my mind anymore. I expect them, and they happen; but now I look at them differently than I used to. In the past I saw them as signs I'd follow to the ends of the earth, but I must be horrible at interpreting them because they have always led to some of the most painful and isolated moments of my life. Well, OK, now I'm just being whiny. It's not like my pain and isolation is worthless; it's all part of my screwed up destiny, which has led me to the realization that life doesn't have to feel magical to be perfect. Right now, I don't even think I could stomach any more damn magic anyway.
Here's to a perfectly mundane and uneventful August 21, 2016. Cheers.
Was going through one of my typical depressive droughts when I reunited with a long-lost friend from about ten years prior. The synchronicities/serendipities that led to our encounter were too plentiful and provocative to ignore. During that time I was losing my faith, but on August 21 I believed in miracles.
We were to be married on 08/21/2011, but that didn't happen. The reason why doesn't matter anymore.
After the fact I realized August 21 is the birthday of someone I had another short-lived engagement with in 2001. I "almost" accidentally got married on my former fiance's birthday ("almost" is in quotes, because even though I've been engaged three times in my life and talked about marriage with 90% of my significant others, I don't think I've ever actually almost gotten married).
There are dozens of other connections and coincidences surrounding these events, and they used to blow my mind to Mars and back. I became obsessed with noting connections between dates and numbers. A true armchair numerologist.
That old friend doesn't associate with me anymore.
A year ago, on August 21, 2015 I was sleeping on an air mattress in my grandmother's oil-slicked garage. I wasn't losing my faith this time, but I sure was ready for a pick-me-up. That night I took some lysergic acid diethylamide and had a brilliantly synchronistic and mentally/spiritually stimulating conversation with a different friend. She later described that conversation as transcendent, so I know it wasn't just me.
She doesn't associate with me anymore either. The reason why doesn't matter anymore, and it never did.
Something interesting has happened over this past year. I stopped giving a shit about August 21.
Synchronicites don't blow my mind anymore. I expect them, and they happen; but now I look at them differently than I used to. In the past I saw them as signs I'd follow to the ends of the earth, but I must be horrible at interpreting them because they have always led to some of the most painful and isolated moments of my life. Well, OK, now I'm just being whiny. It's not like my pain and isolation is worthless; it's all part of my screwed up destiny, which has led me to the realization that life doesn't have to feel magical to be perfect. Right now, I don't even think I could stomach any more damn magic anyway.
Here's to a perfectly mundane and uneventful August 21, 2016. Cheers.