These past few weeks I have officially felt the heavy hand of time for the first time in my life.
There's an old adage that age is just a number, what a bunch of bullshit.
It's as if every second is a grain of sand and as time progresses those grains of sand begin to stick to your body.
At first its such a minute amount that you don't feel it, Your young, strong, growing, in fact for the first 20 some years your impervious to the sticking sand.
But, one day you trip, just a slight stumble, you probably don't even notice it but that stumble allows some more sand to stick, and that sand attracts more sand, clumping, building.
Life is still great, the sticky sand is just a slight annoyance, some extra weight on your belly, your eyes getting weaker, some things could be a lot more serious obviously.
For me, I just had my first root canal. In the past I had some fillings, but no big deal. This year, I broke a tooth right out of my face and had a molar blow out leading to the said root canal. Somewhere I stumbled, and the sand collected, and now I feel it, and it feels heavy.
So not only are we being burdened with my sand metaphors but there is also the constant dodging of unending shrapnel.
We have to keep swimming just like that adorable Dori from finding Nemo told us, but it isn't that simple, we have to keep moving forward and ducking, weaving from sharp, shards, of shit that are trying to impale us at every turn.
Right now two people I loosely know didn't dodge fast enough. Maybe the sand got to heavy and they couldn't get out of the way fast enough or there was simply just to much thrown at them at once that it wasn't humanly possibly to get out of the way.
This is not a pity party post. It's a reminder to myself and others to grab at the things you want, push the small stuff aside, it's meaningless anyway and live.
We all get one life, no more, no less it's up to you what you do with it.