I've been having a few talks with Runner (name changed, clearly) recently. Covering everything from kids these days - ye gods, are we getting this old this fast - to Shakespeare to various story ideas, punctuated by gallows humor. As we're born around the same time (and that time is coming soon) we seem toe be experiencing a bit more pathos than usual. The pallor of our dreams mingling with our utter bewilderment at how fast time seems to go now-a-days, and then added to the feeling we have looking around that we've got no/every reason to feel as damn old as we do...
I'm getting ready to turn twenty seven.
My two major concerns are my hairline and keeping my number of tweets about the number of people I follow on twitter.
I'd hang out with my friends more (yes, I have friends - few but good) if it wasn't for my creeping sensation that they are trying to castrate me (long story, but 70% of the times I hang out with people ends in groin injury...so I have a reason for my reluctance). Besides, they're all getting married/having kids/doing "adult things" (make of that what you will). Which makes me glare at my socio-biological clock while gesturing in a reassuring manner with my cricket bat.
Ultimately, the conversations with Runner have helped spur on my writing. While I'm hoping it's not too infused with the current free floating nihilism, I am hoping it will get me out of my current rut. It's rather deep now. Really a nook. Add a table, and you could put on a fancy meal here.
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