Singles Day

Another nightmare. I dream of being in an examination hall, attempting to answer a question I had given my own students. I break into a sweat as I realize that no words are coming to the tip of my pen and my allotted time is running out. I wake up.

So here I am again, putting my thoughts into words and thankfully finding that yes, I still can write. And then I regret not having written sooner.

Life continues. Over 9000 (hah!) days of me living on this earth. It's settled into a steady, predictable routine. Safe and comfortable. Oh how I hate and love it so much. There's a yearning for more, but a desire for the same. Which one wins is up to you, I guess.

Another year almost up. I'm getting older. People look at me and ask if I'm married (no I'm not), if I am attached (no, unfortunately). In the past work got in the way of relationships. Now it's just my own insecurities. Which is not to say I'm not attracted to anyone at the moment. Oh far from it, for the hormones rage and desire compels me once again to a girl woefully unsuited for me, but one who I can't quite let go. I've let too many go already, I say to myself. But then what is the harm in letting one more?

I've set some goals for next year. Time to go back to school. Time to forge new relationships. Time to get rid of old habits.

I'll be travelling again. I haven't in a long time. That's what happens when you settle down. Yet my youthful wanderlust seems to have faded (although I did suspect that would happen). My life in my quaint little city seems satisfactory. No need to rise beyond and travel to different lands.

And yet, I still have those dreams. Of being in a different place, of living a different life. I can't quite go there. I can't really live it. But oh, I can dream. And after that, I will write of it.

Quarter-Cent: A Belated Update

I thought this blog forgotten until Google reminded me my domain was due for auto-renewal. Set it and forget it, as they ironically advertise such services. But I'm happy to be reminded. I'm happy I still have a place for my thoughts. Blogs aren't obsolete you know?

25 years. I'm supposed to be young and feel young, but I feel old when I see all the children from my youth who have since grown up. I feel old when I realize how much my thoughts, beliefs (and ulitmately, religion) has changed since I grappled with my first abstract concept. I feel old when kids start calling me "Uncle".

Still there's a lot to be thankful for. There's a lot of hope left in me. I'm not disillusioned entirely, as I cynically predicted a long time ago. I haven't sunk into depression over existential issues. My life in fact, has become oddly simplified and all the more happier because of it.

Being a working adult does that. You're forced to put the bread on the table and stop wondering about the meaning of the bread or table. People start to become more important than ideas, and you realize that they always have been. They reciprocate your affection in a way that philosophy rarely ever does.

And yet some vestiges of my younger self remain. I solemnly swore to make my mark upon this world, and that oath still remains - not forgotten and not realized. But you can afford to dream when you are young and half asleep. As one gets older and the day brighter your opportunities grow dimmer.

How have I lived my life until now? Have I made my mark? Have I been meaningful? Being raised a Christian you're constantly reminded to be a "witness". Your attitudes, behavior (and some would say even thoughts) are a reflection unto others. We realize that many Christians fail at this point - at being a "good" Christian. Some keep trying, others give up entirely. I am somewhat close to being the latter even if I still feel uncomfortable when people are surprised to find out I am a Christian. Does that mean I have failed as a Christian? One wonders, even if we are told salvation is between you and God and God looks at the heart and not outward appearances.

One thing I am glad I still do is count my blessings. I am thankful for my family, even if our relationship is being tested as we mature and grow older and go our seperate ways. I am thankful for my "job" - one which I actually look forward to doing everyday. I am thankful my dog is still alive and well, even in her well advanced age.

When I was young I listed my hobbies as reading and writing. Back then you could not list something more generic than that. But I continued to pursue them and sadly in this day and age they are now eccentric and exotic and I am frequently met with awe and admiration when people find out I am decent at both. And for that, I am thankful as well.