To Be 25

September 2023

To be 25 I have lived for awhile. Not as long as my 94 year old grandmother but I have noticed and watched. I have seen happiness and sadness at their best and worse. I understand determination, anguish, grief and unadulterated bliss. To be 25 does not mean I go running off by myself and have unspecified and ambiguous assignations with myself. To be 25 I see no worth in the common transaction know as “small talk”.

I find myself never abdicating in my own words like others so often do since they believe theirs are always correct. The irreverent nature of the ones who blindly think they are correct do not believe in respect for others.

I do not log my ideas in a notebook and find resolutions with my emotions. I do write and dissect the very things that they all strive for so assiduously.

I understand my mistakes, actions, and experiences have made me who I am today and that I would not change. Yet I do see a change for the worse in others. It’s the opposite of opportunity to make ones life better. Yet they vanish like a supernatural ghost you see in the distance. Or a political figures good nature when they start to run for office.

The speech in which they speak is loud and ruthless. Harsh, yet dull with a banal sense of sophistication. They postpone any type of meaningful discussions.

Yet I have not. I choose, consciously, to be different. Challenging opportunities for me are like trying to eat one cookie from the box. It’s not possible. I challenge and take charge. I avoid when to talk when I do not know. Possibly taking away that one vestigial piece of truth the opposition speaks.

I do not want to have a mindset about others that is more pejorative than what the happiness and positivity my mother did and continues to instill in me. My attitude and beliefs is just on the line of harsh truths and ambiguous lies.

To be 25 is to be me.

That is always the point.