On Nostalgia

Yesterday at work, Morbo's Se me acaba came on my ipod.





I listened to other songs from then, and then...

Nostalgia hit me like an awesome wave. The song did not bring up any particular memories beyond listening to this song in my room in college. It reminded me of my time in college, but more than memories, it brought back a state of mind.

It brought back the time when I was younger, more inexperienced, and perhaps because of that, hopeful, optimistic, and even a little naive. I was back when life was for the sake of living, learning was the goal, and before me lay endless possibilities. Life was carefree, untouched by worries of bills and deciding what to do with my life.

I thought that anything was possible, but more importantly, I felt that lack of limits. I yearned.

But now, ten years older, I am more jaded, more cynical, less trustworthy, and more and more, receding into myself.

Life has not spread its offerings for my choosing, as I had assumed it would. I am not where I wanted to be, even though I had no idea where that was - but that didn't matter, I had hope.

Now, that hope is tempered. Certainties has become tentative wishes, always out of reach, so because of that, I have stopped reaching. Always denied, there is no point to strive for more - a constant lull.

Now, an infinite future is broken down to a couple of years or continued strike, months of rent, days of work, hours to do this or that, but always waiting. Waiting. Waiting. For what?

I turned 28 on July 17. Not terribly old, but not terribly young either. More old than young, and less accomplished that I expected. So it goes.