Twenty-nine years old

I’ve been staying up late again these last few weeks - too late, no doubt. Not being in step with the pitch of the sun, after all, is a dangerous affair. Part of my plan to fight the lethargy and boredom that accompanies the early AM hours is to blog every night, even if only a sentence or two. I feel like apologizing to you in advance for the many unseemly posts that will no doubt follow, prostituting my private thoughts and anxieties for short-lived catharsis.

Shall we, then? Here is a thought:

I just turned 29 yesterday. Next year I might be thirty. When I was 19 I finished the German equivalent of high-school, and was set to become a composer. I went off to university thinking life would finally feel real to me. I am so embarrassed for not having avoided the cliche of being wrong.

Today I stood in a room I didn’t want to stand in, with a person I don’t like, who, of all things, also had his birthday yesterday. How hideous life can be.

I feel like my life still hasn’t started yet. I know it has, of course. I will play the martyr and even accept this as the human (gag) condition. And as my impotent act of defiance and violence I now wish to engrave the following summation of my last decade as 1’s and 0’s into the sprawling history of our unshepherded species:

I have allowed the last ten years to slip away, and now, even with all the rage and fury I can muster, I simply cannot recall how it all came to be this way, and how it is that I might escape it all. I have failed in so many ways, and I cannot even recall for what. What was it all meant for, the sadness, the humiliation, the fear and the loathing? Who was watching? And what did I stand to gain from it all?

One thing is clear, it wasn’t always this bad to be awake, and with sleep no longer providing a remedy, there might not be anything left to do but stop being sad.

Honestly? The horror of depression is consciousness: being mentally present and alert whilst it all continues unabated and unabashed.

I swear, this next decade better be better or I am really going to be pissed.

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• Author and date: Mark (2008-02-20)
• Categories: Diary
• Permalink: Twenty-nine years old
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1 Comment »

1. Oh baby baby. I was there for at least half of it. And I thought it was pretty amazing. Maybe it wasn’t what you thought it would be, but i thought it was pretty glorious.

   Besides, while the decade may have been rocky, we put in 3 really good years. Really, the best years of my life so far. I think you’re unbelievable, I really do.

   Comment by Alexia Iscariot — May 8, 2008 @ 10:07 pm

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