I miss my life.

The one I used to have when I was an idiot kid, and my only concerns were driving my crappy car, listening to music, and girls. I miss the mystery of what hot summer nights could bring. I miss the novelty of having an impromptu party happen around you as people show up to wherever you are. I miss the challenge of figuring out ways to get drunk, and the unbridled excitement and potential that an eagerly awaited liquor delivery from an older brother or friend used to bring. I miss having adventures that involved nothing more than driving around a town that wasn’t mine, and finding fun and trouble. I miss meeting a cute girl and having that moment of unsteady realization that she might like me. I miss sleeping late and being a bum, and having a job that served only to pass the time, until I could hang out with my friends again. I miss reading incendiary books and feeling cool for doing so. I miss defining my existence by the concerts I chose to see, the movies I chose to watch (whose posters undoubtedly adorned my bedroom walls) and the band t-shirts that spoke volumes about me, or so I believed…

Most of all, I think I miss the person I used to be. Not that I’m not happy now, and not that I would give up any of what I’ve worked for, but the world changes you. And those people who prance around like Peter Pan telling you “it doesn’t have to, unless you let it” are retards. It does.

I miss the blind acceptance that cool things will happen because I’m young, and the world is rife with possibilities.

So much time passes so quickly, and none of what I’ve said is new or original, but it’s no less true. Our lives continue to accelerate around us, and we all move at a quicker pace, to what end?

Just got to thinking about some summers past tonight, and the people that filled them, and how young I was as life happened around me, and how I didn’t try to orchestrate. I just let it go. Existential, beat life. Just go.

Truly, I love my life. But I miss that person, too.

Sorry about that overly personal nonsense, but I let my mind wander. It happens sometimes.

Author: Seth Clifford

I'm here for the open bar.