Sentimental on a Friday Night

I'm 24 turning 25 months from now. When I compare myself with some of the 24-year-olds that I know, I feel old in many ways. Sometimes I think, I shouldn't have read that many books. There are 24-year-olds that I know though who are so much wiser than me. I would like to engage them in hushed conversations in a dark corner of coffee shop pondering Life and Love away. That I don't do. There are things you simply just figure out for yourself.


That's what I'm doing now. Figuring things out. Changing. Planning (as if!) Embracing it joyously or sometimes not joyously at all. I'd be lying if I tell you I got this. Far from it, I'm lost. Very, very lost. But strangely happy. I have never felt so alive.


"Happiness is a warm gun," John Lennon said. Amen, sir! What is sadness then? I seriously don't know. All I know is I'm sad. Not depress but sad. Not angry sad. Just sad. Good ole' sadness. I'm happy and sad at the same time. Maybe I'm happy because I'm sad. I used to be like that. I probably still am like that.


There are certain kinds of sadness that you will never outgrow. They come without warning. They come while you're satisfied with everything in your Life. They come and go. You thought you've banished them forever, but they come when you least expect them to.