Introspection...

We all go through life a little differently. Some of us are seeking wealth beyond our imagining, others true love, and many more have yet to decide what exactly it is they live for. I think I probably fit into that last group somewhere. I certainly don't have a plan for my life, nor do I presume to know the "right" way to live. All I can do is try my best to figure out what it is that I'm doing that seems to be working or not working, depending on when I ask the questions.

Lately I've been experiencing a lot of anxiety over what to do after college. Many of my friends are ready to start their lives, get the job, find the girl, make the babies. I'm not down with that. That's not where my life is headed right now. Why is it that while all of my friends seem to be working their asses off to impress their prospective employers, I'm slacking my ass off and hoping that I'll be out of school as soon as possible? As it turns out, I believe that there is a link to the past in every decision we make. Most of us don't just toss a coin whenever we have to decide on something, we make calculated decisions based on experience and knowledge of the possible outcomes.

Let me divulge a little bit of information from my past. When I was but a boy of 5, I watched my family (a term used quite loosely to encompass all those who played a major role in my developmental years) go through the heartbreaking loss of a dear friend, Gary Gorman. People die every day, we just happened to know this one. He is a very faint memory to me now, I don't even hear his voice anymore, I remember only his presence, and the way he made us feel. A few years down the road, on the eve of my 13th birthday, we lost another dear friend, Harry "Tex" Overby. To see my family go through all of this again was crushing, and I had no idea how to help, all I could do was cry with them.

Both men died of liver failure, I believe both were in the late stages of Hepatitis-C which they contracted after sharing a heroine needle with a few guys at a party in the early '70s. So what lesson did I take from this? "Don't do drugs" perhaps or "Don't lie down with dogs, or you'll wake up with fleas". No, drugs still play a very large role in my life, and while I'm not a huge fan of dogs, I have been known to wind up with fleas on occasion.

The lesson I took, my friends, was the only lesson that made any sense to me: "Life is short, so make every moment last." This is why I could care less what job I wind up with, and I don't devote much time to searching for a better half. There's always that chance that I could be dead tomorrow, and I don't want people to read that my last day of life was spent sitting through a computer science lecture, writing an English paper, taking my vitamins, and saying my prayers. I intend to make every moment last, right down to the last moment. I may contract all sorts of crippling, debilitating diseases searching for the fun in life, but I would much rather have a lifetime of good times to look back on as I'm writhing in pain than a handful of good times spread out over two lifetimes as I silently slip away.