1982

It’s 1982, I’m dating some beautiful girls from college, had a good job, and life is going pretty good. I’m surrounded by friends, partying every weekend, got a roommate that keeps me supplied in pot, and did I say I was dating beautiful girls from college? I grew from an awkward adolescent in high school to a fairly confident young adult. Doing my best to make the rent, pay-off my off my car, and still have enough money to party.

I had about the same vices as any 20-year-old, I drank too much, smoked too much, and dated a different girl nearly every night. I might have not been the prettiest dude, but I could talk myself into about any “situation”. I really don’t think about those days very much, but I have a few friends that seem to just well in the past. My mind is now focused on the here and now. My past is just that, the past, and the future? Hell, it hasn’t been written yet.

Lately I’ve been focused on what makes me so optimistic. How I can look at a pile of shit yet see the compost it can create to grow a garden. Youth affords us the luxury of time, the feeling that tomorrow's another day. For me I’m here in this moment, not thinking of the future. Putting all my energy into what you’re reading right now. We live such busy lives, running from one disaster to the next. Jacked up on caffeine, or Red Bull, or God knows what. All in the pursuit of some brass ring the world holds in front of us. How much more do we need to feel complete?

In 1982 the only thing that concerned me was where me and my friends would meet up. Today, we are stuck behind a desk, texting our loved ones, never taking the time to live. Take the moments you have, make them last, put down the phone, and learn to live again.

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