The 90s music served as the perfect soundtrack, forcing me to remember where I was at the exact moments I first fell in love with those dated songs. The pool, the park, the back of my father's pickup truck. I was nine and full of innocent curiosity and boundless wonder.
Now, all of those curiosities have been satisfied. Some, in the most unsatisfactory of ways. Two distinct decades of my life collided this evening, but through all of the white noise and rigged lighting, you would never know. I stood, seemingly, in another dimension this evening.
I don't know when the day will come where I will untangle myself from this life-long love affair with nostalgia. Each day is another memento, something to hold onto; to toss into the trunk of my mind.
My thoughts still weld together like permanent post-it notes, often sticking and digging in their roots in the more inopportune places.
I still wake up on my own all throughout the night, systematically grabbing my pen and scribbling something incoherent on paper, to be read in the morning when my head is emptied of its dreams and filled with actual reason.
I still rest in bed for hours, carefully contemplating where I could make the most impact four, five years from now.
I still wonder how everything is in metamorphosis from constant to merely temporary, and if anyone ever truly stays, or just flits away into the air.
I'm still entangled in memories, yet, I cling to the future and its promises. The promises of change, travel and vibrant experience. Of 'just scraping by' and genuinely appreciating the breath of life over my soul. Of using these beloved words to actually make a living, falling more in love with the craft of writing with each scribbling of the pen.
I don't know where I'm going. But, I know it won't be boring.
No, it won't be boring.