When I was a child, I thought my prime in life would be 25. 25, I thought, would be the time when I would obviously be a millionaire, have a beautiful wolf dog, and probably be able to travel to the moon for breakfast because I wanted to. We would obviously be in self driving flying cars and a vacay to Saturn would be so common place that I’d be spending my holidays there. I mean who wouldn’t?
I’d be happy. So happy. Life would be limitless.
Flash forward to reality. Today, I’m 27. Self driving cars are just now a possibility with no actual average consumers utilizing them (Just you google map car, just you, you lucky bastard). Cars don’t fly and the cost of living in the US of A is more expensive than ever & wages haven’t really increased. Donald Trump is president, and I feel as if I am living in the twilight zone. Global Warming is the biggest threat to our health, environment and national security. But…you know. That’s just a consensus.
I’m not happy and honestly, I am not sure exactly what happiness means.
I think, part of this stage in life I’m going through some sort of mental puberty. And it reminds me of this excellent quote by the Goddess herself, Kate Bush. #ALLHAILKATEBUSH
This sums up the upper 20 year old condition so much. We are hitting this mental stage in our life that is akin to the physical torment of our teenager years. We’re no longer our selfish younger 20s. We realize the impact we have on the world around us, how every little action or inaction matters and mostly, how utterly boring life is.
Let’s reflect for a moment at the quintessential song that sums up the teenage existence:
Load up on guns
Bring your friends
It’s fun to lose and to pretend
She’s overboard, self assured
Oh no I know, a dirty word
Hello, hello, hello, how low
Hello, hello, hello
With the lights out, it’s less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto, an Albino
A mosquito, my libido, yeah
My dreams have died
I smile and pretend
that everything will be
right in the end
I’m faking it
to make it
because really Mom & dad weren’t that bad
With the lights out
I’ll be sleeping
and not dreaming cuz I’m creepin
And I’m weeping
Cuz Sally got married
According to Facebook.
FUCK. FUCK FUCK DIS SHIT.
There is this strange thing happening in 2016 if you’re in your upper 20s. Chances are you’re saddled with student loan debt beyond imagine. You’ve resigned your life away to paying back said debt until you’re at least 50. You have the desire to have deep mind buzzing conversations, but are surrounded by individuals who still really, really, really, like to get fucked up.
And don’t get me wrong, sometimes, I too still like to get really, really, really fucked up. But that feeling is starting to dwindle.
I can’t reiterate this enough, from 25 on up, sucks, emotionally, mentally.
You’re still trying to figure out our purpose in life, and often, mistake that for a career or job, or something shallow that you’ve come to realize now gives no meaning. And while you’d like to be the bohemian your soul craves, you’re coming to accept, begrudgingly, that you’re going to have to be a little bit of a capitalistic slut in order to have your cake and eat it too. (I mean, look at my ass it’s fabulous, don’t you want a piece of it?).
There is a lot of emotions and changing of thought processes that happen during this time. Every year I feel closer to something, something that is unknowable, and can not be named. I’m not sure what that is, but it’s a destination that keeps moving backwards as I get closer. Sometimes, I crash into that destination so suddenly and so briefly, that I wonder if I was ever there? I felt like I was, but now I’m back at sea again, cursing Poseidon, longing to be held in his arms, cradled like a child, and yet, want nothing to do with him. Because really, fuck him.
It’s this duality, continuous back and for that exhausts me. I’m still trying damn it, still trying to figure out so much and so incredibly impatient with this process that makes me feel lost, jumbled, and a child with adult responsibilities.
While all this emotional hurdles and mental anguish is happening within, I am still having some of the best times (so far) in my life. Isn’t that beautiful? It makes me wonder, perhaps I can not have beautiful moments without continuous self doubt, criticism, loathing and hatred. Perhaps, life is a mixture of both and sometimes they are both simultaneously.
Who fucking knows though, really. I’ll look back at this post when I’m 40 and think: How self absorb was I. Or maybe, I’ll be kinder to myself and realize I needed to be where I needed to be.
How’s your upper 20s treating or treated you?
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