im getting old

who wants a glass of white wine? i got a big ass jug yo.

im not going out tonight. at least i dont think i am. im not really in the mode to do anything. even swimming is slowly being erased from my list. i dont want to do anything. im just not in the space to make an effort. i guess what im saying is that im making a conscious decision to be lazy. fuck it.

what irks me about the choice ive made is that it reminds me that im getting older. and even though ive embraced the fact that im no longer young, that the days of suicide have passed me by, i still cant help but remember that restlessness, that urge to do things, to experience, to be more than just alive. the venom of youth haunts me, and im only 29.

and what reminds me of that venom is the fact that at times, most times, id much rather sit and think and ponder the circumstances than go out and forget what ever it is that happened. id prefer to reflect upon whats going on at the moment, instead of wonder whats going to happen next. its as if ive decided to admire the paintings along lifes long hallway as opposed to race through it to see how fast i could go.

and thats a rather privileged stance to take, dont you think? at least sometimes thats the argument that wakes me. its not as if i made a specific appointment with death once i made it to 28. its not as if there was a threshold i crossed that allowed me breath for another 50 years. who am i to assume i have a long road ahead of me,? there can be a dead end around any bend, fate could be at any corner. i have no idea where my navigation will lead, i just figure ill get where im supposed to be eventually.

which is why im irked when i take the lazy option. its as if im zoning out behind the wheel instead of pushing the gas and going somewhere. ive chosen to not do anything and its like ive giving into the boring routine of excitement. like every thing's typical and i would much rather explore moments of uninterest or profound spaces of silence. as if doing nothing at all quenches me. and this, my friends, is is the real venom; complacency.

and so just as im bored with instances of interest, im am disenchanted with hours of stillness. which is why ive decided that tomorrow im going to accept the invitation to go up to Maine and camp with some friends in the tall quiet woods. we are going to drink wine and barbecue and watch and laugh as the dogs chase rodents. its going to be fun and exciting and the reflection will be eternal. its going to save my inspiration.

and thats what im lacking right now: inspiration.

on another note:

people like to honk a lot in New York. its like another form of communication here. with their horns they tell you the lights green or that you have a really nice ass or to fuck off because they had a terrible day. people honk their love and frustration and anger and celebration. they honk a warning, they honk threat. they honk sometimes just because they want to honk. motherfuckas love to honk in this piece, for real.