I'm one of those things you'll save forever, but never need
Like an old newspaper no one has time to read
This child has grown into a dead end
Since I lost the power to pretend
But it's alright, that's who I am inside
Not much to say on this non-toxic, ordinary day
- Non-Toxic, Now You See Inside, SR-71
I sat quietly as we had an early dinner while listening to my brothers yapping about what they did during the Rainforest Music Festival.
It was kinder than the other times when we have my birthday dinner together. No more lectures and things like that. Just dinner.
My birthday came and went like any other day. To be honest, I wouldn't have it any other way. It was a change. Some previous birthdays had a lot of drama in it.
I spent the rest of the evening watching old Friends episodes and hunting for Sarah Michelle Gellar interviews on YouTube.
I laboured for days thinking about what to write this morning. To think, I used to be so good at being introspective and dramatic.
I'm living in the so-called future. It's odd. I remember when I was in school or uni, I used to think of all the things I would be doing when I reached my age now. I wondered what kind of work I would have and who I would be with. I saw myself.... settled somehow. I saw a place without all the things I had to deal with at the time. It was rough back then.
It was kind of like a mystical place, this place past 30. Maybe I thought things would magically work itself out, I would have all the things I wanted and all my "issues" would go away. I expected a happily-ever-after.
Now that I'm here at this so-called mystical time, it really hasn't "worked out". Not in the way I imagined it anyhow.
No happily-ever-after. Just more of the-story-continues.
That's the problem with imagination. Whatever you imagine will appear as a story in the mind. A story has closure. Life doesn't, at least not until you die. Maybe not even then.
On the way home, I wondered, how many people at the present are where they thought they would be now? How many people's lives have turned out close to their so-called "road map" that they conjured up while in their teens and early adolescence?
I thought of all my friends. I wondered how happy they are with their lot.
Am I happy with my lot?
Actually, surprisingly enough I am mostly satisfied. I've had some disastrous times before. I recovered as well as I could. On one hand, I lost a lot of time discovering myself and blundering around in the darkness doing it. On the other hand, I earned some valuable experience in dealing with trouble. I'm single, but at least now I'm totally fine with that and I no longer feel any pressure, most of which was social programming anyway. I like it this way better than I thought I would.
I imagined many things about being past 30. Mostly, I turned out nothing like what I imagined.
But at least one thing worked out. At least today, I'm at peace with myself and who I am.
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