Saturday Mar 19, 2005

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life is sweet at the edge of a razor




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a man looks at thirty and doesn't quite know what to think, feel, or do in the face of it. popular culture tells me to posses halls and rooms, brick and tile of my own and be half-gone to filling it with dust of days dead, slowly replacing the colorful handmade threadbare detritus of youth with sleek lines of mid-maturity and utility. i don't want it. i don't want to die inside, politely overlooking the poetry of lust and gripping awareness of the present while silently railing against the dullness of it all. it chokes me.
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
arachnequarius:
i've been here two years now, and find the decade entirely satisfying. imagine combining all that is exciting about the twenties with a stronger sense of self, a greater willingness to risk, a keener wit, more dimensional perspective, a level of experience closer to wisdom, a deeper appreciation for what you truly value, an increased capacity for joy, a greater determination to make what matters really matter, a devotion to your bliss, a compassion for yourseld & others, a dynamic relationship with your darkness, and an exponential sense of wonder at the fact that everything just keeps getting more amazingly possible. and wonderful. and hey, in your case, you are accompanied by someone who amplifies the best in every way.

your thirties are going to destroy your twenties, kid. enjoy em.

♥
darklis:
wink

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