Three Decades of a Work In Progress

*Birthday present from Jayson

I was inching close to being a year more aged, getting past 30, when I began to freak-out-of-sort about getting there. This realization came to me less than two hours before my 31st birthday strikes. For most, the freaking-out-turning-point comes on the 30th year. I just laughed it off back then.

But now, suddenly, I see people all around me, friends of mine, who have their acts together. Wife, kids, and a job they love – (well, for that job bit, I am loving mine) - things that I don't even really think about most days. Well, I am not screwing up my life. I also have my own deal of responsibilities – including but not limited to paying my bills. Paying my bills – the only ownership I can think of right off hand… How can I be 31?

Looking back, the past 30 years of my life would not call for a celebration – a far call for a celebration of life, if I must say. For most part, it was shady. There were happy times but they just came in trickles. I am afraid that this freaking-out-of-sort would blossom into full-panic. I am somehow in my mid-life and have not yet found what it is to be really happy. I still have a handful of peace of mind issues and subjects on coming-to- terms-with-myself to deal with.

I got way past 30, and maybe it was the demarcation line I have crossed. Maybe for most parts hereon, will be brighter. I am a work in progress.

Anyhow….
There's something thrilling about the reckless abandon of youth. I don't want to lose that. That carefree attitude, that feeling of being tireless, and invincible - that's who I am; it's who I've always been. One minute, I am a jubilant youth, without any care in the wolrd, and before I know it, I’m 31.

I got way past 30, and maybe it was the demarcation line I have crossed. Maybe for most parts hereon, will be brighter. I am a work in progress.