today i am 25 fo the first time. one of the great 'beginning of the ends' is noticing your age before it fades into the near past.
and to be honest, nothing much has changed. it's the same life, the same me. but i like to use these obligatory and slightly irrelevent markers to take breath and really notice.
my birthday began with a hazy morning. slowly waking up to an odd, unfamiliar flickering light and distant soft sounds. as i adjusted to consciousness, i found it was the glow of 25 candles and the humming of happy birthday in my ear.
chocolate cake for breakfast is not to be scoffed at, but an antique typewriter is one of those rare gifts you never knew you coveted badly.
it was one of those simple moments, one of those mornings to remember.
i feel old often. the aching joints, the odd turn of phrase.
but regularly i feel infantile. too young for this. overwhelmed and slightly ecstactic. like wearing your grandmothers high heels for the first time.
it's an odd mix, this adult but not grown-up. and the newness constantly surprises me.
but i am optomistic. i always thought 32 and 36 would be my years (i don't know when or how i chose this, it's just a thing i have always known), but 25 is starting out on a high, if unexpected, note.
like those tones in indian music halfway between two keys. not any part of the western scales but somehow not outside the nodal truths my ears recognize. a limbo, but a calm, somehow sweet one. like a hibernation den for the soul. hiding in the margins of here and now.
i'm spouting shit now, i can't deny it. i so often am without the words.
but i am content.
...and maybe slightly tipsy.
1 comment:
Thanks for writing this.
Post a Comment