Let me start by saying that at the tender age of 25, I feel I am officially fed up with adulthood. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be a kid again by any measure, I am just already very tired of the bane of adulthood. . .financial issues. It isn't a huge deal overall, but it is a type of stress that seems to impact all other facets of life. There is a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, I just am exhausted from chasing it.
As for other facets of life, things are decent, though I dare not say they are good. I have a 5k to run in a few days and I have been training for it for months now, the training was mostly born from other things, but now has almost become a necessary part of my day. I am however, very sore and I fear it has all finally caught up with me, a mere few days before the event in which I was doing all of this for. There are many others ways in which I feel broken, but those things are for another night, or perhaps not for anyone at all.
I have been thinking heavily about past events that have nearly taken me off this mortal coil, thinking of how lucky I have been and how that has skewed my view of life at times. Feeling as if I must be alive for a reason, feeling as if there must be some greater purpose for my individual existence has often ravaged my mind. Now, my younger brother has also had one such experience, an accident that should have broken him, or killed him, but merely left him badly bruised and in need of a few good days of rest. I hope that he does not dwell on his existence like I have and I also hope that I have not passed my luck onto him. If indeed in some cosmic way some of my nine lives were given to him, I don't believe I have any left and in the back of my mind I now fear that my next accident, whatever it may be, will be my last. I am not entirely sure if this last little bit falls anywhere close to baroque so just in case. (EXAGGERATED MOTIONS!)
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