I’d like to pretend I am in the prime of my life. But everyone seems to hold a different definition of when that precise moment occurs. No, I am not 45 and impotent, with a job I loathe, kids and a wife that make me cringe when they speak, and a secret life on Myspace. I am not hoping to comfort myself with the prime of life ideal. No, I am not a divorcée, abandoning my Catholic faith, squeezing into my high-waisted taper-legged jeans, and dealing with my abandonment daddy-issues by attempting to seduce 19 year old boys with wax in their hair and pimples on their face. I am not hoping to comfort myself with the prime of life ideal.
I am in my lower 20’s, living place to place until I sort out what I want to do with my life, pretending to be carefree and without emotional tethers, and reminding myself that this life is fleeting. I do not think I am hoping to comfort myself with the prime of life ideal. Rather, I use it as an excuse to behave recklessly and live without a plan. I am only this age once. I am only living this moment once.
But, and this is the troubling part, I know that once is not independent of was or will be. Hence the blog’s title: “Our lives are tangled.” This comes from an old song called “Where Do You Start,” which I’d like to share with you now.
Where do you start
How do you separate the present from the past
How do you deal with all the thing you thought would last
That didn’t last
With bits of memories scattered here and there
I look around and don’t know where to start
Which books are yours
Which tapes & dreams belong to you & which are mine
Our lives are tangled like the branches of a vine
So many habits that we’ll have to break
And yesterdays we’ll have to take apart
One day there’ll be a song or something in the air again
To catch me by surprise & you’ll be there again
a moment in
what might have been
Where do you start
Do you allow yourself a little time to cry
Or do you close your eyes & kiss it all goodbye
I guess you try
And though I don’t know where & don’t know when
I`ll find myself in love again
I promise there will always be
A little place no one will see
A tiny part within my heart
That stays in love
Hopelessly nostalgic, a little romantic, but knowing and acknowledging the where and when at all times, I sincerely hope you enjoy this blog of thoughts on everything. Messy and incoherent though it may be, it is the way that everything “intertwines” for me.