I've been noticing something lately, and it's another one of those stupidly obvious things that somehow surprises me.
Life is in a state of transition right now. And they're not big transitions, like moving, or changing something big like that, but they're noticeable when I start to look. People and places that are slowly sliding out of my life, and new ones that are appearing in their places.
I went with my little sister to my old high school back in August or September, and it kind of sucked, but that was one of the things it took for me to realize that it had no place in my life anymore, except as a memory. The people I knew aren't there anymore, and I really have neither desire nor reason to go there or talk to anyone.
I wonder if that's what getting old is like...You notice how a lot of old people kind of shut down? Stop going places and stuff. Obviously part of that is just that they're start losing all the energy and capability of youth, but I think some of it is just how unfamiliar one's world can become.
Anyway, the same sort of thing happens with my stuff. I have an obscene amount of junk, and I've been slowly working on getting rid of it over the past year or so, and some of it just gets lost, or thrown out, or given away in the course of time. That's how things are supposed to be, I think. You have to get rid of some things to make room for others, or to de-clutter. Letting go is a necessary part of things.
Part of me wonders what I might be losing as the current carries me away from things--or carries them past me--but it also means something different is taking their place. And I have some strange obsession with moving. I don't like to sit still, and I don't like things to stay the same. I like the adventure of new, even if I don't necessarily always think it through or entirely enjoy it.
One of the coolest things someone has said to me was last summer or so. I was talking to Rosalinde, and he said, "No adventure is 100% perfect, or happy, or wonderful all the time. It's inherent to adventures that they're dirty and grimy and uncomfortable, and have some really suckish parts. They'd be boring without them."
Which is slightly off my original point, but it's what I mean underneath that.
You know those screen-savers that looked like tangled thread? The twisting fractals that changed color and stuff? If you slowed one of those down enough that you could watch every movement, that's kind of what I think life would look like. Or maybe stone is a better comparison. It changes slowly, but it alters the entire landscape, and one day, a few thousand years later, it's an entirely new place.
Anyway. Just some things in my head today.