Remember the time you…

So this is my first blog.  How exciting for everyone to witness my inevitable rise through the ranks.  Just a starting point, I am not remaining anonymous to aid me in spouting nasty propaganda or to pretend I am ‘The Weeknd’, I just don’t want to talk about my coffee with Linda Smith or my walk to the park with my I-Pod in.  I’d rather talk about interesting things such as my favourite novel from the 19th century or my dangerous venture into the supermarket to buy a new brand of toothpaste.

First and foremost, I am a frustrated young adult who is uncertain of his future (I just revealed that I am indeed a man.  That nails my identity to a possibility of 3/4s of a billion young men, just call me Frank Ocean.)  Sometimes in life the amount of open doors that are ready for my celebrated entrance are blocked by that anxiety that we aren’t quite ready or good enough or confident enough to enter into that new realm.  That fear that lies within all of us is just a matter of life and will be with us until we die; it is how well we can hide it that allows us to achieve what we want within our best abilities.  This is probably why sociopaths do so well in life, in their own mind they have nothing to lose as their humanity is irrelevant to them.  I wish I was a sociopath sometimes.  Maybe then I could whisper into a girl’s ear at a classy bar in the city that I’m a ’21 year old casual employee at a liquor store with dreams of grandeur and a life filled with overwhelming passion, so if that appeals to you come back to my parents’ place for a night of hot, sticky sex if I can manage an erection after my 12th beer’.

I like thinking about my past and assessing the decisions I have previously made.  Not through regret or pride but to remind myself of how momentary phases of life can completely alter the direction of our lives.  Of course these are extremely rare.  Most of the decisions I make at the moment are to do with how I can seduce a cute girl into coming over to mine for ice cream and cuddles in front of a Marlon Brando flick.  That’s all I’m really desiring at the moment, although this could be attributed to the music I am currently listening to.  That is the omnipresent feature of life for mine.  One song at one stage or another in your life is the most important thing that influences our existence.  Just like Extreme’s ‘More than Words’ made me cry when I was sick in Thailand or that Van Morrison’s ‘I’m in Heaven (when you smile)’ accompanied every memory of the road trips of my pre-pubescent youth.

I don’t necessarily believe that nostalgia is healthy but it will always be relevant.  Looking back upon an experience as a whole or when I am simply being selective with my thoughts produces that hormone that can open up strong feelings of pride, shame, lust, sadness, mirth and contentment.  I try to roll with it on every possible occasion but that’s pretty difficult when you are love sick, waiting for the girl that you have been so secretly in love with for years to text back to a completely forced question of what she had for dinner or her thoughts on the state of the public health system.  I like to remember if only for that lingering fear that one day I might only be able to forget but I promise myself that I will never stop desiring the strongest feeling of spontaneity in the heat of the battle.  Maybe I should just stick to something I am good at, like masturbation or talking about my favourite jumper.

But that wouldn’t be particularly enlightening to anyone, would it?

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