Take only what you need from it.

It is always not an easy thing to have to get through the birthday every year.

Because it is a reminder, very tangibly visible, of how much time has passed.

I suppose, by this point, the realisation jars pretty poignantly that regardless of how much older one gets, there is no getting over the profound sense of vacancy that accompanies the passing of each year that we remain alive and living.

This twenty-third year is going to be disparately different from the past twenty-something years, because it is not going to be just another year of going through school and soaking up more of that formal education.

It is going to be a year of terrifying possibilities and terrifying changes.

Once, we were the little young beings whose biggest troubles included fretting over which secondary school to submit ourselves to, wondering whether or not to scamper into that submissive JC or dive in for the adventure of poly, and questioning what on earth should you spend four years in large sophisticated concrete structures learning about. Now, we are moving into slightly larger older beings whose biggest worries are beginning to include the fact that we might not actually have the capacity to contain all the worries that the younger versions of ourselves had the youthful privilege of being blind to.

When you are about to take huge steps and venture forth (or be shoved) further into deeper depths of uncertainty, that is precisely when it becomes exceptionally important to make sure you know where you are coming from.

Remember yourself and remember the kind people who have given you all the kind support that you have received from them all these years, because these are the two groups of individuals without whom you will not be here. Remember to thank them and let them know that you feel grateful to have had shared moments of life with them.

It feels as if the imminent graduation from the last stage of tertiary education marks the end of the first volume in the book series of my life, the volume with a title in the likes of My Growing Years in School. 

From then on, you will be forced to ditch the label of being a kid for real.

All the past years of kidding around are seriously going down into being history.

Obviously it is nuts to think that such mortifying and horrifying changes can materialise in your busy, busy psyche overnight. It is just not possible to sleep the night before, being the dopey naive kid, and wake up the next day, morphed into this mature version of your better self.

It is going to take some time for introspection before going forward.

Figure out some of the piles of mess that litter your past. Put some in the trash for good, sort out the salvageable ones and use whatever leftover youthful energy you still have left, and try to outrun the expiration of those perishables. Gather up those fine memories of yesteryears and the spirited moments of the youthful days past into stacks of cherished reminders for yourself in the future, when you will most likely become dreadfully susceptible to deteriorating powers of recall.

Go forward with less of the debilitating debris that has accumulated over the years and with more of the affecting remembrance of the things, people and moments that have crossed your paths in passing or since time immemorial.

The past is choked with greatness and fear.

Take only what you need from it.

Kids by The Kooks (MGMT cover)

How to find yourself.

It is important to find yourself.

Because it is extremely easy to lose yourself when you live among one of the many million crowds in this crowded universe.

It is also very interesting how the writer of this article, who was writing about How to Lose Yourself, was actually talking about the converse.

A bit further down in that same notebook, I found I had written this:

“If you let your mind talk you out of things that aren’t logical, you’re going to have a very boring life. Because grace isn’t logical. Love isn’t logical. Miracles aren’t logical.”

Barbra DeAngelis said that. And in one sweeping statement, she summed up the entirety of what I’m trying to say here. That who you are as a person is far greater than any which thing you can define yourself as, anything that logic can make sense of, and by releasing your mind from those confines, you find a much deeper, even miraculous, human truth, something that is understandable by awareness, not mind.

– Brianna West, How to Lose Yourself (Thought Catalog)

It is not an easy thing to do, though I suppose that is why it is all the more a precious thing to do. That we have spent huge parts of our life learning about meanings and trying to bear those tedious definitions in mind, and then only to realise that trying to make sense of things is something that inherently has no meaning, because it is not the point.

I think this French poet got it right.

No Need 

by Alain Bosquet

The elephant’s trunk
is for picking up pistachios:
no need to bend over.
The giraffe’s neck
is for grazing on stars:
no need to fly.
The chameleon’s skin,
green, blue, lavender, white,
as it wishes,
is for hiding from ravenous animals:
no need to flee.
The turtle’s shell,
is for sleeping inside,
even in winter:
no need for a house.
The poet’s poem,
is for saying all of that
and a thousand thousand thousand other things:
no need to understand.

One more round before the last call.

I suppose there comes a time in life where the metaphorical last call would force us to face up to waking up our idea.

Tomorrow will be the first day of my last semester of school.

The ups and downs of school life are truly about to begin to come to an end.

Every last semester before this now seems like a giant joke that should have never even been considered with any modicum of gravity.

My god.

Dave Van Ronk, “Last Call”

And so we’ve had another night
Of poetry and poses,
And each man knows he’ll be alone
When the sacred ginmill closes.

And so we’ll drink the final glass
Each to his joy and sorrow
And hope the numbing drink will last
Till opening tomorrow.

And when we stumble back again
Like paralytic dancers
Each knows the question he must ask
And each man knows the answer.

And so we’ll drink the final drink
That cuts the brain in sections
Where answers do not signify
And there aren’t any questions.

I broke my heart the other day.
It will mend again tomorrow.
If I’d been drunk when I was born
I’d be ignorant of sorrow.

And so we’ll drink the final toast
That never can be spoken:
Here’s to the heart that is wise enough
To know when it’s better off broken.

Let us be opened up for possible defeat and let ourselves learn how to get back up again and to eventually gain enough wisdom to continue fighting better and living wiser.