Only got a few hours of sleep last night. In preparation for yet another weekend in Southern California. Throughout the time I was awake I was waiting to put another load in the washer. I used that time to ponder, and figure out what the hell happened to time in general. Logically, time just passes. I can remember my 21st birthday being such a big deal, and some people were more hammered than myself. I look back on things now and think about the choices I've made, one must have no regrets, and keep looking forward. Or else one would keep second guessing everything, and time will pass, and one would be wasting time just thinking of choices already made. The past is what has brought you to the present, I'm sure some reflection isn't a bad thing at times, but to much reflection could result in insanity. I guess it's bad to be on any extreme, but for some reason I always find myself on an extreme. I don't quite have that down yet. Hopefully by next year I have that down, or maybe it's something that I'll have to be constantly working on. My focus in the past has been purely technical, if not completely logical. But from my past experience with humans in general, I think all of that focus was completely worthless, from a human interaction perspective. It only forces an individual to be more self absorbed. Such as my now ex-roommate. Very easy to jump on someone and accuse them of being "abrasive", yet fails to see that he himself as "brittle." Now it's understandable to pass false judgment on people, and be wrong about it. But to me and the other remaining roommate, it's about having some respect in the form of being clean. That situation gave a whole new meaning of , "Cleanliness is next to Godliness." I mean if you decide to setup a recycling center in the living room, yet leave it for months on end to pile up, I think that's very disrespectful. It's like saying, "I've been here longer than you, so I can do as I please, but be sure to be on time with the rent, and please clean up after yourself and me!" Well I'm glad that situation didn't end with me taking my driver and using his head as a golf ball. Which shows some maturity and growth. I certainly think that the 21 year old version of me would have probably went off on him, and that would have solved nothing. There must be a substantial amount of people out there that are in this mode. I've seen many people out there like this, and it scares me. I don't want to end up one day with a huge house full of things I've horded over the years. And perhaps on top of that getting into a relationship that becomes a marriage, then comes children, and then being stuck at work, and not spending time with them. If there is a divine, I'd hope that one day my ex-roommate doesn't become a father, someone needs to stop that dysfunction. Just commuting to work, working, coming home, watching TV, and then bitching about how the internet connection isn't fast enough, or how some standard isn't being implemented properly. Is that living? To some people I guess that's acceptable. I hear something entirely different calling me, but I can't quite make it out. I've never had this much free time, and for this long period of time. And I'd have to say it's nice. There is freedom, and that light at the end of the tunnel isn't fictional. But basking in the light has only made me realize that there is another tunnel to travel through. And after that there will again be yet another tunnel. At some point I don't know when it is alright to stop and bask. Maybe it's timing, maybe it's choice, maybe it's both with a little divine intervention, it could be none and just be some random chaotic sequence. So I've come to realize, that for now I'm going to just assert that, "It is, what it is." I think about the good times while rotting away in this cubical, and I smile. I've watched the sun rise SO many times, and each time it rises, I know it'll set. I remember this one time I was in Rosarito (Mexico) during spring break, and the person that drove was missing. The liquor we had consumed was completely wearing off and we were tripping out that we were still in Mexico. So 3 turned into 4 which turned into 5 in the morning, the sun was rising and we were wondering if our driver was in the local jail. That was an adventure, and that was living. I remember this one time staying up 72 hours straight to cram for finals. And being so tired that I slept in my car in the parking lot for 8 hours. I think that was living. So when does one call it quits, when do you just walk away, and decide you'd like to remember things on a good note? Look at Michael Jordan, he walked away three times. Or do you ride it out, and let it take you where it takes you? Maybe I just need to redefine "good times" as something else.
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