I've got a new camera on the way, it should be here in the next day or two. Nothing special, just a frugal point and click digital that will allow me to put up more recent pics of myself. The one up now is dated. At least if you're young it's dated.
Honestly though, eight years doesn't seem like all that much to me anymore. It's only a matter of time before decades mean less to me than eight years does now. I remember when I graduated High School (over 10 years ago) how fast it seemed at the end, but in 9th grade it seemed so far away. I thought then (9th grade) by the time I reached 23 I would be a "man," lifetimes removed from his hated existence as a teen.
Yet here I am now, in my thirties, feeling like not much has changed aside from my perceptions of time. I look almost exactly the same. I have a beard now but I keep it short, little more than stubble. I've gained a few pounds but I doubt you'd notice. My face isn't wrinkled and I don't act "old." Hell, I don't even act like an "adult" for that matter.
I go to work and pay my bills, sure, but I spend my free time the same as before, reading and watching movies. I still love to laugh and make jokes and curse like a sailor. I have no desire to dress up like "automatons in business suits/ swinging black boxes/ sequestering the blueprints of daily life./ Content and free of care/ they rejoice in morning ritual/ as they file like drone ant colonies to their office in the sky." ...I still listen to Bad Religion and the lyrics mean more to me now than then.
I also still don't believe money will make me happy, another thing that reminds me of being made to feel "childish." I prefer fun to "putting your nose to the grindstone." If age is a state of mind then I'm younger than my body and will remain so for a long time. I don't want to live a life that feels like grinding my facial appendages off. Why would anyone? I have a feeling the saying "life begins at forty" will hold true for me. Or maybe that's when I'll start feeling like death is beginning and do crazy shit like bungee jumping over concrete slabs, raving about the rush of "feeling alive" in order to avoid the inevitable realization "I'm not immortal, my life will end."
But who knows... New pictures to be posted next week. Rejoice!
Honestly though, eight years doesn't seem like all that much to me anymore. It's only a matter of time before decades mean less to me than eight years does now. I remember when I graduated High School (over 10 years ago) how fast it seemed at the end, but in 9th grade it seemed so far away. I thought then (9th grade) by the time I reached 23 I would be a "man," lifetimes removed from his hated existence as a teen.
Yet here I am now, in my thirties, feeling like not much has changed aside from my perceptions of time. I look almost exactly the same. I have a beard now but I keep it short, little more than stubble. I've gained a few pounds but I doubt you'd notice. My face isn't wrinkled and I don't act "old." Hell, I don't even act like an "adult" for that matter.
I go to work and pay my bills, sure, but I spend my free time the same as before, reading and watching movies. I still love to laugh and make jokes and curse like a sailor. I have no desire to dress up like "automatons in business suits/ swinging black boxes/ sequestering the blueprints of daily life./ Content and free of care/ they rejoice in morning ritual/ as they file like drone ant colonies to their office in the sky." ...I still listen to Bad Religion and the lyrics mean more to me now than then.
I also still don't believe money will make me happy, another thing that reminds me of being made to feel "childish." I prefer fun to "putting your nose to the grindstone." If age is a state of mind then I'm younger than my body and will remain so for a long time. I don't want to live a life that feels like grinding my facial appendages off. Why would anyone? I have a feeling the saying "life begins at forty" will hold true for me. Or maybe that's when I'll start feeling like death is beginning and do crazy shit like bungee jumping over concrete slabs, raving about the rush of "feeling alive" in order to avoid the inevitable realization "I'm not immortal, my life will end."
But who knows... New pictures to be posted next week. Rejoice!
All others: Not Dated