pardon the semi-britneyspears allusion, but i have recently come to this simple, mind-boggling revelation: I AM OLD.
I've these dreams I'm walking homein less than a week, i will be 20. let me say that again -- I'M TURNING 20. HOW MESSED UP IS THAT?! talk about a quarter life crisis (<-- that's john mayer's too).
Home when it used to be
And everything is as it was
Frozen in front of me
Here I stand 6 feet small
romanticizing years ago
it's a bitter sweet feeling hearing
"Wrapped Around Your Finger" on the radio
And these days I wish I was 6 again
Oh make me a red cape
I wanna be Superman
- John Mayer, 83
2 decades old. wow. it's funny, i still remember how excited i was when i turned 10. i had a birthday party, and i recall telling my mom with a huge smile on my face, "I'M IN THE DOUBLE DIGITS NOW!"
and now, 10 quick years later, i am on the brink of leaving the TEENS -- and somehow, i feel nowhere near ready.
i feel like i'm in that midway zone between childhood and manhood. it's like i'm standing in no man's land. of course i don't call myself a "boy" anymore, but i can't really call myself a "man" while keeping a straight face either.
what makes a man? how do i know when i've crossed this threshold? back when i was younger, i used to watch older people play basketball, and i would think to myself that i would consider myself a MAN when i would exude unbelievable puddles of sweat when i played basketball. and thankfully, i have not become a man according to this definition.
another thought of mine growing up was that i would become a MAN when i stopped acting like a child. but i have grown to dismiss this definition as well. while i know that there is a time for play and a time for work, i sincerely hope that i will always be young at heart.
so what does it truly mean to be a man? do i even want to reach that point yet?
i guess i really don't have an answer. but for now, i will listen to my dear friend albert einstein:
People like you and I, though mortal of course like everyone else, do not grow old no matter how long we live...[We] never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born.
preach it, alby.