Growing Pains

I guess, as I'm getting older, I'm starting to miss my childhood a little. Just little things, like sitting in my grandma's house eating lunch while watching cartoons or walking to the arcade with my brother. These are things I won't ever do again; they're sweet memories made bitter with growing up. The reason I'm thinking about death--not suicide, but death in general--is that I've had this feeling inside me for a while that's telling me my childhood is over, and it will never return. And that makes me sad.

I told my mom today I felt a little sad thinking about the past, and she told me to look forward to the future. Even she, at 50 plus years old, looks toward the future. If you focus on negative thoughts, she told me, your thoughts will become negative.

Although my childhood memories aren't negative, they're bitter, and they have made me bitter. For now I've decided to follow my mom's advice and focus to the future and prepare myself a little more for my life as an independent adult.

Silly Boy

(Has it already been a month since my last post?)

I feel like crying right now. Why?

I've been feeling suspended lately. My life feels uncoordinated, unorganized, wandering. Is that good or bad? Should I even ask that question? Not everything can be qualified as good or bad; sometimes life just is.

I don't believe in soul mates. That's silly. I believe in people and I believe in disconnectedness and I believe in love. Choosing a spouse or partner or whatever isn't a matter of finding "the one." There is no one who will completely fill that silly void inside all of us. I don't believe there is one person who is perfect for us because, obviously, no one is perfect. Which leads me back to the whole good or bad dilemma. Some people can get along well, and some people cannot. That doesn't mean that anyone's "bad;" it just means that's the way they are. Some things just are.

Why do I feel so vulnerable? That's a great word to describe how I feel: vulnerable.

My life feels messy. Everything is starting to speed up, and it seems like as more time passes the more hectic my life will become until, eventually, I will die. I was thinking about death the other day. What is it like to die? It's startling to think about my own death. I've never given it any realistic thoughts. But it's there, waiting.

I'm still wondering how my life will end up. Do I need to take steadier control of it?

Anyway, that's the final thought of the day.

P.S.
(Welcome home, Miss Anonymously Me)