Jumping on the Bed!

A lot has been happening over the past few days because very little had happened over the past few years.

Without getting into the gory details, I’ll explain it this way; I have once again found myself in a pivotal point in my life, a point in which I must figure out who I am. It is at once wonderful and terrifying. Part of me wants to debate whether or not it is, or should be terrifying. Does growing up present itself as a terrifying notion if you’re not ready? Or is it simply human nature to fear the unknown? Is it fear? Is it merely a stronger than normal sense of caution? Is it reluctance? Is it the stubbornness of an easily complacent child? What am I?

The other time I found myself like this, I was in junior high school trying to figure out who I was. I had been the typical sexually charged reclusive geek with poor hygienic habits and a video game obsession that rivaled most girls’ fixation on their hair and whoever was popular in “Teen” magazine. After a bit of soul-searching seclusion, I emerged as a more presentable geek. Gaming lore and skills to match in a body that showered and shampooed every day, and even started wearing deodorant and occasionally spritzing on a little of my father’s Old Spice cologne. Nearly every day I would wake up at 6:00am (mind you, school didn’t start until 9:10am back then) to catch the shower before the rest of the family used up all of the hot water and I would blow dry my hair, I even used hair spray for a couple of years. Then I would walk three miles (yes, up hill) to the Junior High instead of waiting for and riding the bus because it got me there right before school and I wouldn’t have time to spend with my friends in the Library, or outside under the eves that linked all of the buildings. Many of the other kids would actually respond when I smiled and said “Hi” in the hallways instead of pretending to ignore me like they used to. I felt more self confidence and even did some homework from time to time, though nothing topped my time spent with video games and reading fantasy / sci-fi novels. Months would pass when I would borrow a book from the library (often 300+) pages, read it through most of my classes, read it walking home, read it as soon as I was finished with my paper route, read it through the evening and hours after I should have been asleep, then finish it walking back to school the next day, all to return it and borrow another book to begin the process all over again.

I have been a pack rat for as long as I can remember. I’m not sure why. Certainly my parents’ behaviors have rubbed off on me, but my brother and sister weren’t anywhere near as likely to store little trinkets to damn near everything. Take the picture above as an example. I was going through a bunch of stuff from my computer desk that was thrown into a box over two years ago when I moved out of my parent’s house.

And that’s just a few of the things in a 12″ cubed box of stuff. Everything has an emotional tie for me. Everything reminds me of something I did, or something I wanted to do, or someone who cared. Finding some of these things floods my mind with the past. Sometimes things I don’t think I ever would have remembered otherwise. Is it good to hold on to the past like this? Is the past holding me back from the future? At what point do I let go of who I was and let myself move on to the next step?

Judging by the multiple trips to the trash with many bags of novelty trinkets, unfollowed paths, and aborted ideas, I guess the proper question is rather; Why has it taken me so long to get to this point in my life, and where do I go from here?

(“optimistic” radiohead – kid a)