Tuesday, March 01, 2011

1000000 years old.

last night in bed, minutes before i trailed into sleep, i got a vision of my days in the schoolyard as an eight-year-old.

there was one time, playing running bases that i slid into a base head first and was sat on by a classmate who had got his growth spurt just a little earlier that year. in the excitement and debris, i didn't realize that i was hurt pretty badly- the left side of my face getting very acquainted with the dry, almost-summer hot gravel at the side of our school's building.

that moment reminded me of another time around then. in a game of red-ass, my friend jeremy was the victim of a fist of another friend, cocking his hand back to whip a tennis ball to the wall. he recoiled so quickly, falling into a crouch. we didn't know what to do, but he had this silent wail that, i learned then, was connected in this world- to the more serious kinds of pain.
he rose after a minute, tears, snot and sweat drenching his face, with blood dripping out of his eye. after the initial fuss we made- calling teachers and trying to have closer looks- i remember a group of boys, clustered in the final minutes of recess, speechless and not even sure if what had happened was real.

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the last few weeks i have been brainstorming and mulling over thoughts about time and aging, it was spurred on by someone's fear of getting older.
it's interesting how we mostly associate a certain kind of beauty with age and find the idea of deterioration scary and overwhelming, yet can look at our elders with respect and admiration for their wisdom and experience. does that mean in a way, that nature has fashioned itself to initiate growth internally after a certain time in one's life? does one without a wrinkle or any fat indicate youthfulness? what is the true sense of immortality? is a youth youthful even if he/she does not live with enthusiasm and willfulness?

these things really get twisted and meet countless tangents in my mind- but i suppose it's the same sort of thing that weighs/ed on the minds and spirits of those before me, with me and probably forever still. with the mystery of what lies beyond and the fleetingness of our time here on earth- what am i holding onto, what am i striving for?

and does anybody else find the passage of our years getting faster as we get older? and how almost comedic it all really is,

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1 comment:

yannie said...

As I get older, my mind is more clouded by anxieties of the future that the present moment is easily filtered out. The intensity and minutiae of childhood memories can only occur when one's attention is situated mostly in the right now.