when i'm 24...

24 seems like it will be a very circular year, complete with all sorts of swirly realizations, blooming in psychedelic sunspots on the rushing tide pools of my days. perhaps this is naive, some silly 23 year old talking, trying to make some connection between years and hours. but days are days and they'll come and go no matter what number you assign to yourself. and yet, i cannot help but think that perhaps some Mayan mystic will shake a stick over my struggling body and decipher this existence.

i had no intention of writing this tonight. in fact, i had every intention of holding off and setting fingers to keyboard tomorrow, in the morning light, when i'm more awake, and fresh, and well, older. but you can't stop the fingers once they start to go, and the mind? forget about it. so here i am, writing a confession. yes, i think this year is going to be big. perhaps my mind is getting giddy and high on the symbolism (it likes to do that) and yet, something tells me, 24, 24, has got some weight and substance to it. unlike 23, 24 is even, can be pulled apart and set into nice, organized, equal piles. 23, what a clusterfuck. it's lopsided and angular in my mind, like a coconut whose husk has been hacked at by a cross-eyed machete.

i wish i could lay out neatly the course of the coming year, to rub my hands over the events to occur in the coming months like a fine tapestry. the truth is, all i have is one string, one slight, soft filament that i hold between trembling thumb and forefinger, and despite my best efforts to yank it from the oblivion it is sewn into, i am forced to pull myself along gingerly, one little claw pinch at a time. the world unfolds constantly in front of my wide and new eyes. and then what? and then what?