More ponderousness
This weekend, I ended up at a bar in East Cobb, drinking with my old friend Stephen Brown. Stephen is my next door neighbor (well, was… he still lives there; i don’t) so I suppose that he is my oldest friend. We haven’t actually talked in about seven years. It’s very bizarre. We used to do so much together, but now our lives are very different.
He’s living in East Cobb. I live in Atlanta. He owns a gun. I watched Die Hard once. He’s a financial analyst. I’m a financial anarchist.
I’m sorry, that last one was stupid. Fuck it, all those were stupid. I could go back and delete them, but, no. Oh geez this is turning into a metanarrative.
Anyways, I’ve been running into a number of people from my past lately, which has been nice, considering the quarter-life crisis I’ve been suffering through. I mean, I guess it’s nice. Actually, no, it is, because running into all these people has helped me to remember that my life is a narrative that spans 24 years, not just the past 5 that I feel define me so completely now. It’s nice to remember that I am the sum of my years, and that I have had rather varied living experiences.
I also flipped through my yearbook when I was at my parents’ house. I miss alot of my high school friends.
