While it’s safe to say that I’m just another January baby, it’s also worth noting that I am an early 90’s baby. I was born just in time to catch a taste of the change between the two millennia. Sadly, I was born too late to ever fully experience the last days of true rock n’ roll. Don’t worry; I’m catching up.
It’s a bittersweet feeling to realize that I’m already halfway through my 20s. Naturally, just as anybody else who’s been in my shoes before, I feel as if I’m not doing enough and I have no idea where my life is heading. Maybe the career path I’ve chosen is wrong, maybe I will never change my ways and rid myself of bad habits, or maybe I will not leave anything of substance behind to be remembered for. These are some of the many thoughts that arise when the month of January rolls around the corner.
I am not quite sure how a person can be left untouched by the passage of time. How can you not suffer or how can your heart not ache, at least a little bit, when you see yourself growing older and knowing that there is nothing you can do to stop it? But maybe, there is one thing to do and that is to live.
However, I cannot help but play out the last 25 years before my eyes, like a low-budget indie movie, with a killer soundtrack. If I had to write a brief description of the plot or narrate the trailer for that film, it would probably be something like this:
25 years of music and overplayed songs, 25 years of wasted afternoons and misheard lyrics, 25 years of random books and not enough read classics, 25 years of neglected friendships and burnt bridges, 25 years of saying ‘fuck it’ for a living, 25 years of daydreaming and longing for lost summer days, 25 years of life, of blood running through my veins and flames burning inside my chest.
On that note, here’s to another 25 years. Come what may, I choose to remain unstoppable because, believe it or not, I am inching closer to the human I am meant to be.