The Newness of Getting Old...
I've recently reached the somewhat mediocre milestone of surviving for 30 years on this planet. Don't worry, I won't be detailing how this is a lonely, depressing point in my life or listing my many problems with the world and those that walk around it blindly looking for... more. I won't be ranting about how confusing girls are or how I just can't come to grips with my childhood and how it made me into the wretched person I am today.
I won't be writing those things because they aren't true.
I'm happy. Remarkably so, actually.
As my last few weeks in the skin of a 29 year-old man wasted away I began to prepare myself for mourning. I assumed that I would see the loss of my 20's as an end to hope, optimism, creativity and imagination... an end to all that meant most to me. To this day I have no idea why I assumed any of those things.
I have nothing to mourn at all.
I've carved myself into a nice little craggy nook in the great 'Wall of Sound' that is the Live Music Industry. I get paid to work with the "Rock Stars" and eat catered food while listening to legendary stories. I'm not tied down to any contracts or agreements, allowing me to take months off for vacation whenever I feel the need to do so. I have very few obligations or responsibilities but somehow manage to reap many wonderful rewards. I play music as often as I can, on as many different instruments as possible with incredibly talented musicians alongside me.
I'm as creative, hopeful, optimistic and imaginative as I've ever been.
I blame hormones.
The weeks after I turned 30 were strange and almost comic book-like. I felt more alive, coherent and self-aware. I stood up straighter, taller and with more purpose. My confidence level soared through the roof and my ability to handle difficult situations with a cool head seemed to become near superhuman. Girls around me began to notice...
I was bitten by the radioactive spider of Adulthood. And the venom hurts so good.
So don't worry. I won't be boring you to death with brooding blogs filled with dark thoughts. Sorry to disappoint.
Hello, My Name Is Rand.
I'm all grown up.
I've recently reached the somewhat mediocre milestone of surviving for 30 years on this planet. Don't worry, I won't be detailing how this is a lonely, depressing point in my life or listing my many problems with the world and those that walk around it blindly looking for... more. I won't be ranting about how confusing girls are or how I just can't come to grips with my childhood and how it made me into the wretched person I am today.
I won't be writing those things because they aren't true.
I'm happy. Remarkably so, actually.
As my last few weeks in the skin of a 29 year-old man wasted away I began to prepare myself for mourning. I assumed that I would see the loss of my 20's as an end to hope, optimism, creativity and imagination... an end to all that meant most to me. To this day I have no idea why I assumed any of those things.
I have nothing to mourn at all.
I've carved myself into a nice little craggy nook in the great 'Wall of Sound' that is the Live Music Industry. I get paid to work with the "Rock Stars" and eat catered food while listening to legendary stories. I'm not tied down to any contracts or agreements, allowing me to take months off for vacation whenever I feel the need to do so. I have very few obligations or responsibilities but somehow manage to reap many wonderful rewards. I play music as often as I can, on as many different instruments as possible with incredibly talented musicians alongside me.
I'm as creative, hopeful, optimistic and imaginative as I've ever been.
I blame hormones.
The weeks after I turned 30 were strange and almost comic book-like. I felt more alive, coherent and self-aware. I stood up straighter, taller and with more purpose. My confidence level soared through the roof and my ability to handle difficult situations with a cool head seemed to become near superhuman. Girls around me began to notice...
I was bitten by the radioactive spider of Adulthood. And the venom hurts so good.
So don't worry. I won't be boring you to death with brooding blogs filled with dark thoughts. Sorry to disappoint.
Hello, My Name Is Rand.
I'm all grown up.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
magpie:
hiiiiiiiii
magpie:
you wont regret it.