i have actually said everything there was left for me to say
blog.zzzzion.com
I spend a lot of time poring over my plans for growing up. Not just in the sense of aging, but I am more so in a daily, visceral race, against my own skin and bones, to grow. I feel that I am behind on meeting the mark, of making sure that my mind grows to fill the space left by my growing body, which ages self-assuredly. That I am being honest here should be clear from only a glance at anything I do: I write so I can remember what the world looked like to me once, when I was younger. I read so I can memorize what it looked like to an author, probably of higher moral standing than me. I take extended smoke breaks with friends so I can steal what it looks like to the people I like. This last one I undertake with the highest sincerity, in that I have no qualms postponing my other commitments or sharing my cigarettes if it means I can get a peek at the stand they take in life. I have done all of this long enough that I should expect myself to be no less than a behemoth of emotional intelligence. But I feel less than that — what I think I am now is a twenty something year old less good of a person than I would like to be. So it appears, that I still have to keep learning new things every day, and to my dismay, I have been told that this growth endeavor I am obsessed with is a lifelong one.
i have actually said everything there was left for me to say
i have actually said everything there was…
i have actually said everything there was left for me to say
I spend a lot of time poring over my plans for growing up. Not just in the sense of aging, but I am more so in a daily, visceral race, against my own skin and bones, to grow. I feel that I am behind on meeting the mark, of making sure that my mind grows to fill the space left by my growing body, which ages self-assuredly. That I am being honest here should be clear from only a glance at anything I do: I write so I can remember what the world looked like to me once, when I was younger. I read so I can memorize what it looked like to an author, probably of higher moral standing than me. I take extended smoke breaks with friends so I can steal what it looks like to the people I like. This last one I undertake with the highest sincerity, in that I have no qualms postponing my other commitments or sharing my cigarettes if it means I can get a peek at the stand they take in life. I have done all of this long enough that I should expect myself to be no less than a behemoth of emotional intelligence. But I feel less than that — what I think I am now is a twenty something year old less good of a person than I would like to be. So it appears, that I still have to keep learning new things every day, and to my dismay, I have been told that this growth endeavor I am obsessed with is a lifelong one.