so what's next?

right now i'm having myself a heck of a flash back listening to zhané's debut album pronounced jah-nay from 1994. i remember being so very much into this entire album and now it sounds so very old and nostalgic. suddenly i'm back in my bedroom at my papa's house in bakersfield, california back when the area code was still 805 teetering around with a BBS (bulletin board system) on my computer and singing my little heart out at 2:00am with lititle to no cares in the world.

i'm a little torn between listening to this and reminiscing or getting with the present and realizing that i can't be that carefree taken-care-of kid anymore... like ever. not unless some miracle happens, and even then there's stuff you can't get back. i can't be 15 again. papa's long gone in the arms of Jesus. relatives with bad management skills have sold the old house outside of the family. for its own sake, i suppose it's ok to enjoy some now classic 90's R&B. as a device for trying to get back times and feelings that have long since past, it's obsolete and pointless.

"here we are / look how long it's been / we've come far / and i remember when / we were young / havin' fun / dancin' 'til the dawn / now we're gone on our own / everybody's movin' on / everything keeps changin' / i guess nothing stays the same / even though we're leavin' / maybe comin' back again / oh how time flies since we said hi / but now it's time we said goodbye" - amel larrieux, "time flies"

every now and then, this happens. i listen to a song. go to a place. eat at an old restaurant. visit an old friend. when there's new growth and evolution, they function as proud monuments. when nothing has changed, they become dusty antiquated ruins... generally. of course, a lot of that had to be abandoned when my grandfather died. one era ended and another began.

the feeling was a lot like being on the caboose of a train and watching someone at the station waving you off. you're sad, you blow kisses, you cry, the whole bit. yet, the more the train powers ahead, the smaller that person becomes in the distance. perspective distorts the farther you get down the tracks until not only can you not see the person, you can't barely make out where the station was it's become so small in view. this is the point where you can either stay in the same place looking in the direction of what has disappeared from view or you can realize that you have a place to go and you can walk to the other end of the train and find out where you're going.

at this point, i'm proverbially in the middle of the train headed toward the front. i still wish i could walk back to the caboose and see papa waving at me from the station, but the train has been rolling now for 5 years and i know that's not even an option. so now, i just want to know: what's next. there have been joy and laughter and love and happy times in my life, but i'm not in that same place anymore. i'm in a completely different location in a different time with different people, and i've become different myself. i believe that in this radically different location that there's a brand new set of loves, laughs, and happy times to be had. and i'm looking for them. i don't know if i'll find them in new friends, a new job, a new hobby, a new attitude, a new girl, but i know they're there. they're mine. and i want them.

honestly, i'm 25 now, headed towards 26. i'm not dating, and i'm far from being family-minded just yet. i'm pursuing a degree, but that's not the big drive in my life. i was hanging out at barnes & nobles this week and i'm thinking that maybe when i'm around 30, i'll free up some time and become a bookworm. there's so many books that i'm interested in, but i'm moving at way too fast a pace to stop, slow down, and read them. that sounds nice. i like the area i'm living in, and i'm not much of a traveller, so i don't have any particular ambitions to go world travelling. i would like to put some real time and effort into developing my craft as a recording artist. i feel like i'm a little old to really be making a grab for it, but i'm not so old that it's a ridiculous thought.

regardless of my chronological age, i still feel like i'm 21 (probably because i'm always around people that age). i'm only recently feeling like i may jump to 22 or 23 in some respects. making concerted attempts at maturation, stability, and other serious developments. i'm making headway, but i'm still not quite at "grown folks" status yet. i may be saying too much, but as usual, i'm willing to risk being wrong: i'm pretty content with my life, but i'm not very attached to it. if God appeared to me and said, "you know, you can come to Heaven with me now if you like or you can stick around here on earth for another 30, 40, 50 years", i'd probably quickly choose the Heaven option. not just because the joy of Heaven far outweighs any on earth, but i don't yet have a wife or children that depend on me. i'm sure i'm important, but i don't really feel like i have some great purpose that i must be fulfilled before i leave earth. that may be a red flag indicator that i haven't really started living yet, so i'm perfectly fine with waiting and watching. doesn't matter anyway. i doubt God would offer me an early retirement package anyway. i don't work nearly enough! :) lol