Turning 22 is the first time I've ever felt older. I always go into a depressive introspective thing around my birthday on account of the past events far outside my realm of control. I know I'm still here and hes not. Besides the misgivings of earlier eras I miss alot of things. I can probably remember 90% of the events of my life. There must be events beyond those of this flesh and blood. My body is 22 years on this rock but what about the rest of me. I'm 22 but how do you carbon date you're soul? I don't suppose its really all that important but a minor curiosity. Maybe thats all a life is, a few dozen minor curiosities. Maybe thats all mine is.
On a lighter note I usually say I'm 26 when I get drunk. I'm confused as to whether or not to up my drunken age to 27. I suppose the next time I get drunk and stupid will hold the answer.

I'm not really sure what I'm doing here. Although that differs very little from anything else in my life. I've been told by some pretty weird people that I was borne without a star and exist outside the realm of fate. I never used to believe them but the last 3 years have almost clinched it. I currently walk the earth without friends (not to say I don't have them but they're all hundreds of miles away), much of a reserve of currency and about as much optimism as a horse at a glue factory.
All that said I'm in a much better place then I was but I've sort of come to realize that I am a fulcrum for Karma. My life can never go too well or it can't sustain itself for very long. I intentionally let the world screw me so that others may avoid such crappy things and also so more horrible things can't happen to me. The last time I was happy for a month I was morbidly depressed for 11 months. A 1:12 ratio is statistically about the best I can hope for.
I may sound like a downer but in reality I'm a very superstitious person who's been schooled by a world I was apparently never meant for. The last hopeful thing one of those weird people said to me is there is someone to balance my equation, someone in need peculiar luck and Hitler level Karma. My mom says there is a lid for every pot. Comforting words in a world of broken glass.