A Man At 25

It’s bizaree that I’m 25 years old.  I turned 25 in September, but it was today while I was walking home through Times Square, that I realized that I am becoming one of those “older” people.  When I was younger I often hung out with people who were 5-10 years older then me, and I was always the young kid, but now I’m becoming one of those “older” people.

25 is not old.  But I’m realizing that i’m getting there, in 5 years I’m going to be 30, and then it’s all over — all the hopes and dreams of a youth would now be the hopes and dreams of an adult male, and all achievements would seem trivial.  And as the years pass the faster they fly, and I know that soon 30 is going to be very close.

I guess what I’m trying to express is that there’s a certain sense of urgency, and what’s funny is that the older I become the more careless I notice myself to be.  I’m worried about less things.  Before I cared about more things, today I care much less about them.  I am more certain of principles, and more certain about life, but less certain of the direction it goes  . . . but that is the majority I believe.

These thougths are quit petty though.  I think there’s a certain urgency that comes about at this stage in life . . . and perhaps thats the psychological reason for my whole 100 dares thing.  But maybe not, maybe natural and normal and not psychotic.

It’s good to have such an urgency.  It is important, because it makes you re-evaluate yourself.  And I guess you start realizing that time does flee, and that when you look back upon it, you want to say that there was some sort of greatness that can be physical to it, not just the “greatness” of existance and/or the “greatness” of you . . . that’s just lame.


~ by alexmalina on January 28, 2009.

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