Post date: Jan 17, 2020 3:18:39 AM
i hadn't thought about it when i mentally caught myself, while telling my romantic associate about a friend i had, a few years ago.
you see, i'm reaching a point in my life where i catch myself talking about friends i used to have, more than friends that i currently see on a regular basis.
come to think of it, i used to love traveling .. not just to visit friends who've moved, but the exploratory kind of travel where you see things and experience things that you've not done so before ..
.. like sail to an island, by chartered motorboat, on an otherwise barren seascape,
or curse the thin soles of your shoes because you can feel the cobblestones underneath them and the first dozen steps were fine but now it's getting old and your feet are getting beaten up in the process of walking.
travel isn't glamorous. it doesn't mean that it's not worthwhile when non-glamorous, either. a friend of mine once said that it's all in the stories you get to tell about it, afterwards.
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when you start talking more about the past than about the future, much less the present, then does that mean that you've crossed into middle age ... that is, the middle of your life?
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i don't dream about new sights and sounds and smells anymore.
i worry about having a strong coffee in the morning and a strong beer at night. there's the stuff in between too, of course: work, lunch, promises, feeding my romantic associate's ungrateful cat .. not exciting stuff, but just preventative stuff that keeps existence to a level of first-world convenience.
if i wake up feeling like sh-t, then i'd rather it be my own fault, rather than any lack of agency or means. i'm getting to the point where i'd rather be comfortable and predictable than not.