August means many different things, depending, mostly, on your age at the time of the particular August in question. For many of my age and younger, it means only a couple weeks left until classes start again, and old friends are around again. For me, it means my Birthday is Thursday (how's that for a segue?). That's right, I'm turning the ripe old age of twenty. No longer a teenager, but not quite old enough to drink, legally. That last part doesn't really make any difference, as I don't, generally enjoy drinking much but water. It really is odd to think that I've been here for twenty years already, at times, yet at others, it feels as though I should be in my mid to late 30s by now. My joints are killing me, I need a woman (lol), and I'm not quite sure, at this moment, if I'll be able to fill my own degree requirements. Yes, I realise that all three of those bits had as much to do with each other as I do with the Atkins diet (bleh!). Just some different things on my mind as the day of turning two decades old approaches. I think the only thing that's really bothering me about it is a very strange one to worry about: I've always had this feeling, almost a premonition, that I'm going to die before I turn thirty. I don't know why, but I've felt this way for many years now. It's not like so many I know that simply can't seem to see themselves making a future--I can, honestly, see myself conducting in New York, getting married to some beautiful blue eyed girl at Carnegie Hall, even, perhaps, guest conducting the Vienna Philharmonic, itself, someday. However, I just...think I'm not going to live to see those days. It's weird and kind of morbid...actually, extremely morbid, but I'm glad that I'll get to spend this weekend at home with my family and friends that I love dearly. Those who will be absent will never leave my thoughts (you know who you are), and I miss you greatly. I feel as though I have no definite path set out for me, but I will find it.
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Wow, I think this might be the most rambling and probably incoherent entry I've made yet...but it's just something that I'm trying to get down and out. It's not something I do easily, you know? I've always been wary and extremely reluctant, in the past, with weblogs, journals, or what have you. I don't like sharing myself with the world. I'm afraid, oftentimes. I'm not sure what people will think of me. I don't care what most think, but the important people are here and read me. I worry more, usually, about my friends than myself, often to my own detriment. I like it that way. The life of the artist, the poet, the musician, can't afford to be a selfish one.
As I continue into the rest of this week, I want to thank my friends, both old and new, for...well, simply for existing. It's something that, while everyone does it, few do it well. *smiles*
Alright, enough rambling and ranting and morbid and/or sad thoughts. In the words of the great George Carlin (a la Bill & Ted),
'Be excellent to each other.'
William A. Corder
'He who knows others is learned. He who knows himself is wise.'
'Tomorrow will take us away,
Far from home--
No one will ever know our names,
But the bards' songs will remain.
Tomorrow, all will be known,
And You're not alone,
So don't be afraid
In the dark and cold
'Cause the bards' songs will remain.
They all will remain
In my thoughts and in my dreams
They're always in my mind....
Come close Your eyes;
You can see them, too.'
The Bard's Song: Into the Forest