Worries of Growing Up August 08, 2003 - 12:27 p.m.

"You must remember this, a kiss is still a
kiss". Your romance is Casablanca. A
classic story of love in trying times, chock
full of both cynicism and hope. You obviously
believe in true love, but you're also
constantly aware of practicality and societal
expectations. That's not always fun, but at
least it's realistic. Try not to let the Nazis
get you down too much.

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Ya know, I still haven't seen Casablanca. Always wanted to though. Maybe now that the dvd is out, I'll actually take the time to sit down and watch it.

I worry. I worry that forever is a lie. That true happiness is merely a dream. That even if I achieve something wonderfully perfect, I'll find a way to fuck it up or won't even see it for what it is.

I worry. And I'm scared.

I had another dream the other night. It wasn't nearly as vivid and real, this one actually felt like a dream. But it dealt with the idea of getting married. This time it was after the engagement and we were with our friends and family, and telling everyone and starting the planning process. I remember there was shopping in a huge bulk-store kind of warehouse. It's like we had a huge group of people there, and we were running through the aisles, acting like kids, and just having fun.

This one didn't have an emotional effect on me, aside from the fact that it was like a continuation of the first dream. A 'what-comes-next' sequel to the story. But the fact that I seem to have the same reoccurring theme leads me to think that marriage, or at least the idea of growing up, is a large part of my subconscious lately.

It's got me thinking about it nearly all day.

Thinking so much about one subject, you would think I'd have something substantial to say about it. Some deep philosophical conclusion. At least a few ideas on the subject.

But no. Just concern. Concern, and fear, that I'll never get there. That I'll never achieve that one important goal.

It's all a matter of not wanting to fail at something. I'm sure I'll get there. But there's that whole age factor, meaning I'm only getting older and older.

Hmmm... age and getting older... Maybe this is just the ticking of that annoying biological clock.

Someone give me a hammer and point to the snooze button.

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