A man, A mind, and nothing else

I happened to wish an acquaintance on their 23rd birthday today - participating in that Facebook ritual that has become the norm. Go to the Home page, look to the right, click the links, type out a hasty "Happy Birthday! Have a good one!" and then move onto the next person on the list until you're done. Quite uncomplicated, and it saves me the usual trouble I have because I can't remember birthdays to save my life.

But a post on his wall reminded me of something all of a sudden that I felt a near physical blow. Nearly 4 years ago (about 20 days short) I was sitting in front of a computer, and I was talking to my brother online. He hooked me onto a song called 23 by Jimmy Eat World. And told me it was how he felt, because that's the age he'd just turned. A song about regrets and a love life - he told me, cheerfully, to ignore the latter. The song stuck a chord in me then, but most good music does. I listened to it for a couple of months, made other people listen to it once in a while, and then it slowly faded away.

But it's been 4 years. And I suddenly know what he meant. How many people can I say, confidently, will be there with me at the end of my days? How many things have I accomplished that I shall look back at in the future with a smile and some pride? Where did those four years go?

Some people say that the teenage years are the worst - adolescents in adult bodies learning how to move and interact in this world of ours. But these years are probably tougher - learning how to BECOME a part of this world. To find our place. Not one of those identity crisis, riddled with angst that we feel when we're 16 and frustrated. But an emptier, more questioning feeling which comes accompanied with a greater knowledge of our capabilities, a bankruptcy of our dreams and hopes, and a rather harsh crash into reality.

Come a few months, I'll be 23. As the song says, I won't always live with these regrets. There will come a time, I'm certain, where I'll be content. But that thought scares me as much - are my sights set too low? Am I really doing all that I can to be all that I might be? Am I really doing justice to who I am? I guess we'll never know. No one will.

But it's all about what we're hoping for. For making those moments count. To rededicate yourself to make your life better, and the lives of those around you better. I'm living with a memory that's playing tricks on me, in an institution that seems to destroy optimism and hope, and yet there are many who emerge from it better people. One of those people will be me, come the passing of a year and three months. And these years will be of value to me. And I hope to use what I learn, and more importantly, what I have become, to gain a place on this world that fills me with purpose.