Splash No. 213 - Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
As I write this letter, the clock ticks through my last hours of being twenty-four years old. It’s a weird feeling. Twenty-five has always felt like the big milestone I’ve always been driving towards; reaching it feels like reaching the horizon — an impossibility. But here I am, nearly at a loss for words. I imagined that twenty-five was the year that I’d get everything figured out, at least the big things. Despite my endless anxiety about the future, I never thought much further than that. I would hit all the main goalposts by 25 and it would just be smooth sailing from there, right? Right??
At one point, someone told me that 24 was the best year of life. To some degree, I’m inclined to agree. Even though many parts of the last year were less than ideal, I’ve found myself at the end of the year feeling like a completely different person. I’ve had a wide range of experiences that I had never had before, found a new job, completely reevaluated everything in my life and how I think about it, and come out the other side feeling pretty good.
In years past, I’ve written about intentions for the future, ways that I wanted to be more virtuous, more creative, kinder, etc. And sure, I’d love to be those things, but I don’t feel too bothered by any of it. , I described the future as “an unformed lump of clay that lays in my hands, waiting to be formed into whatever I choose.” I don’t know if I agree with that anymore. I don’t feel so confident that I can control what things will look like going forward. It’s more likely that I’m that lump of clay, partially formed and partially not. As time passes, I’m sure I’ll continue to shape myself into something or another, and some of the formed parts will fall apart while others remain. Either way, I’m in no rush to accelerate the process, happy to see what happens, happy to be clay, lumps and all.
I’ve been noticing how many of my favorite things are just evolutions of my favorite things from when I was younger. I still love playing video games and reading, I still adore Taco Bell and pizza. Heck, I’m still playing Minecraft and Yugioh, just like I was at age twelve. The best part of these things is that the joy I get from them persists despite the passage of time. Maybe they’ll slowly lose their luster, and grow boring and forgettable like the dozens of other things I’ve forgotten about entirely. But for now, they make me forget about the passage of time. Maybe 25 will look a lot more like 10 or 15 than I expected.
Happy birthday to me!
Drops of the Week
ALBUM - Copacetic by Knuckle Puck - pop punk album that I keep returning to
ARTICLE - "Flânerie: The Art of Aimless Strolling" by Sam Woolfe - actually walking aimlessly is virtuous and important
POEM - "Born. Living. Will. Die." by Camonghne Felix - I’m getting older. I’m buying smaller images to travel light. I wake up, I light up, I tidy, and it’s all over now.
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In celebration,
Nikhil