Lament of an Eternal Youth

I think I know what my “problem” is.

I love everything, way too much.

I flit back and forth, grasping this, snatching that, inhaling this, devouring that – I want to know how everything feels, tastes, smells, sounds like, looks like. I cannot ignore the bad…but I also see the riot of exquisite delights everywhere.

Sometimes I want to rebel against my own “rules” – really my “rules” are just preferences and specific things I want to accomplish, until the Desire Monster attacks me.

I have never liked rules. What a stereotype, huh? “Girl who hates authority!” – well, I don’t hate authority, I just prefer to rule over myself. I am my own kingdom. I set my own path. I do what I wanna do. And if people don’t like it, or say I can’t – well, I will find a way and prove them wrong.

I do not set out to fight any system – I just behave as if I am entitled to my freedom. This used to lead to me losing jobs, friends, etc – but now because I see it as a positive thing to have freedom, I never fear losing things. And so I never do. I can’t lose anything because I know nothing belongs to me (or I can have everything because everything belongs to me).

The orgy of things I want to do, read, see – the list is endless and glorious. I am obsessed with my teenage years. I want to relive them with the attitude I have now (and this is basically how I conduct myself). Damn what a time it would be. It was still good, despite the heartache and acne. I wrote my way out of the angst. I mostly kept to myself. I drowned myself in music. I yearned for long-haired men (I still do).

Not much has changed, except I feel powerful now instead of weak. My aesthetics and passions have not changed. I still want to be a surf bum. I still want to make music. I still want to write out every detail of my day, every character I concoct, every interesting thing I learn, every turn of phrase that makes me swoon.

The voracious need for constant stimuli has not waned. I have always been interested in every facet of life. How can anyone be bored? Read a book about the universe or something!  Bloody hell.  I roll my eyes at boredom. Even if you watch TV all day you can be excited by things . I miss the days of late night alternative music shows, which was the only way (other than magazines) at the time I could discover anything special. My Saturday nights were not party nights. I was a lone teen with green-streaked  hair, Doc Martens, and purple plaid flannel. I read Poppy Z. Brite and yearned for Trent Reznor in the Closer video, hanging from the ceiling in his black latex gloves (the pinnacle moment where I transformed into a goth).

This show was my weekly blast of splendor – then every week I would trek to the city to sit in my favourite music store, stare at the cute, grungy, blonde employee, yearn for his butt, and listen to CDs of the bands I had discovered.

I do love the internet, but it has replaced true exploration. Last year me and my (long-haired) boyfriend were watching a new music channel on TV – it was a freebie for a month, and yet again, I had the joy of discovery like I used to. Oh how I was sent back to those days! The difference being that I could go home and listen to it right away, for free. Nostalgia prefers the record store.

Discovery is still my favourite of all things. This is why I lament my teen years – it is much harder to have that particular sensation – things now are so overwhelming and so accessible. I still get that ecstatic pulse from music, and especially from literature – I gorge on these things until I explode.

But there are so many things I have not done and want to do – I keep searching for that flutter of delight. I do feel it far more often than most people do.

The youthful minded stay young. It is the best anti-aging potion out there.

2 thoughts on “Lament of an Eternal Youth

  1. Uch, I would LOVE to live as a teenager with my now attitude. I had ZERO self confidence, I am still depressed when I look back at myself then.

    My sister went in one of those glass door mazes when she was young and started to get freaked out and ran into a few glass walls crying, until they sent someone in there to get her out. I wonder if the carnival people run the maze so often they know it by heart. That would be an interesting thing to know.

    • I knoooow. I love reading my old journals, despite my angst. Most of my writing was fun – it was later on that it got more depressing (after teen years) – it’s only in the last 4 years (as a raw foodist) that I have changed into what I wish I had been as a teen.

      I never got freaked out by stuff like that – I guess I have always been pretty rational when it comes to fear. The only thing I was ever really afraid of was earthquakes – for a LONG time I was terrified constantly. I read a book called “Solitude” by Robert Kull and he wrote a phrase about anxiety that left a huge impression on me. I can’t remember the quote exactly but it was akin to saying anxiety is pointless – that we always react to situations WHEN THEY HAPPEN – we automatically know what to do (and if we don’t we improvise) – what we plan in our heads is never what happens, so fearing something that may never occur, or what you will do, is useless because you will probably be in a completely different situation anyway and will have to deal with it dependent on your current situation/mindset/etc when it happens.

      My fear was gone after reading that. I have not been scared since. It’s been a couple of years.

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