To preface, I cried thinking about some subject matter I'll cover here the night before. I am not a 'bitch ass white boy', I'm very sensitive and sentimental.
There's nothing that the human mind loves more than the concept of aging. When you're young you glance at the people who tower over you, who are much more disciplined and smarter at a glance, and affirmedly tell yourself "wow, I can't wait to be like that when I grow up." As it turns out, this was not the case. This was never the case. Even if you think that this isn't the case, it was the case at some point, and it will continue to be the case just as long as you and I do not live for ourselves. I can generalize this because I know damn well you can recall at least one moment in your adolescence where you've felt like this. It could've been the Hollywood glamorization of high school and college, things you had been told, or just a run-in with a really damn cool person almost double your age. You had to be let down. I myself can recall one instance of this. When I was like 8 years old, I often found myself on the bleachers of my brother's baseball games. He was just a speed-first slap hitting second baseman, lowkey a bum now that I remember it. He never had the makings of a varsity athlete. However, I can remember one guy on that team who was just too damn nice with it. Just was straight up a fucking unit playing U-13 baseball, had to be almost my height now. Dude hit tanks. Just fucking monster piss missiles like 340 feet over the fence every at bat. A literal man amongst boys, although I'm sure he hadn't even started seeing variables in math yet. I wondered where he was just now. I knew I remembered his name, and figured I'd search BBRef's college registrar to see if he had truly made it. Nothing there. Nobody that would even appear to be him beyond a reasonable doubt. His light, just as my 8-year old self's, had gone out. I have to wonder at what point his dream faltered.
I didn't care much about athletics then. I just wanted to hold a modicum of swag like that down the line when I was 12 years old myself.
Come the time I was barely 5 feet tall and masturbating to Touhou porn every day.
I seriously didn't know what I was expecting when I held myself to zero standards and just did things as they came to me, under the pretense that I would suddenly become fulfilled with my position in life at any one moment. This wouldn't be the last time either. I kept finding myself envious of the people older than me, attributing my problems then as a transitory period on what I had been constantly told were the worst years of my life. I kept this attitude for what feels like my entire life and I haven't recovered since. The child in me is still waiting on his deus-ex machina. The adult is still masturbating to Touhou porn every day. It's felt like I've avoided idolatry of others since, and only look towards and idealized version of myself as the one constant that will come with the passage of time. If anything, I've consciously begun to dread it. Especially in a technologically-dependent world, each day disappears within the blink of an eye, not molding into any one memory, but a formula to be mass produced week-after-week with a handful of subtly changing factors. I wonder if I ever knew that my life would feel this endless when I was eight years old. Haruhi Suzumiya.
So am I just complaining about how I'm just pissing every day away? Well, yes. Everyone looks back at their younger years and wish they had done more, wish they had done different, and wished other things as a result of having my psychosexual development stunted at 8 years old when I was in a Skype call watching a girl shove eels up her vagina, such as wishing that a quirky Japanese pop star would molest me, just as she had done to another before. There's just certain things in your life that end up rubbing salt in the wound to this whole thing, such as being truly alone around those who you are completely apathetic towards. A yearning for confidance and guidance, a tight-knit, almost inhuman bond with someone or a group of people who happen to be versions of yourself when you look in the mirror. It goes without saying that something like this would never come to anyone no matter how hard they tried or sacrificed to Moloch. Those bonds just don't seem to exist. Something adjacent to it does though. It's family. I can't help but think how much I miss my family.
It's not like they're hopelessly far away either. A couple hundred miles, a few hours. It's still a fair distance, but a distance nonetheless. I spend so long away that it feels like they just become distant memories to me. My parents are on the older side. With recent developments in my mother's health, I can't help but have some sort of irrational fear in my heart that, one day, that time may come. Suddenl and without closure. Sparing not even a hopeful word. I feel the same about my dogs as well, they're old too. I love both of them. They both seem well, but I know how quickly things can change. I've always seen my grandparents as these perpetual beings, not larger than life, but rather humble enough to be distinctly earthly in my eyes. They just feel like a constant to me. That visage quickly unfurled by seeing one of my grandfathers' dementia worsen from not being able to remember my name all the way to a vegetative state and in home hospice. The other, 70-something years young and more than fit for his age thanks to decades of consistent work in the maritime industry, slowly becoming senile and deformed as a result of continuously spiralling problems pertaining to his liver. I couldn't imagine it being like this a decade ago. I couldn't imagine a decade further in the future then. How the fuck is Markiplier still here (still love you tho brobro)? I could only surpress the realities of the passage of time and look forward towards an idealized version of myself and everyone I loved. Could you even be surprised that I am disappointed now? What's there to look forward to?
I can look forward to accepting that the clock never stops for anyone.
That's not to say that my way forward is attempting to blindly enjoy every second of my life, moreso it's an acceptance of the gradual decay of those who came before me and, eventually myself. I don't know if I could afford to lose the only woman in the world that knows me best. I don't know if I want to let my beautiful fat beagle dog pass into the ether. I don't even know if I want a fucking job man; the present is only now. By the time cracks begin to show in my foundation, I would, at the very least, like some closure on why I exist at this point in time. Why is it I that gets to bare witness to all of these abstract concepts, technologies, and qualities of life? Do they even have this shit in oblivion? Or the afterlife? Or in the human soul's next vessel? It all feels like it's going to waste, and I have no real medium to apply them in a way that's distinctly fulfilling in my eyes. I forget my doubt when I remember what I don't have, and what others do:
"i mean shittt at least i'm not a nazi cosplayer egirl. having a pussy would be odee though. just playing around with it n shit. lol. lol. sorry."