When I Turned 40
When I turned 40, all of the opportunities I squandered started to become very clear. The fog began to lift long enough for the entirety of my 20's and 30's to play out before me. There they were; all of the taught skin and metabolism mixed in with the trips to England and the adventures to New Mexico I didn’t take, all the writing and photography I didn’t pursue. It was like watching the sea swallow a ship almost in slow motion, yet there’s nothing I can do to stop it. The enormity of it was too much for so long, but it's mine to bear. The ship will inevitably be taken under, never to surface again. It’s almost so poetic to watch, I couldn't turn away. Wasted youth. I recall car rides at dusk when I was 16, singing along to Pink Floyd having no fucking clue what “no one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun” truly meant. Lyrics I really had no business reciting. I was so young, worrying about things no 16 year old should be worrying about, wishing I were like my friends, but deep down knowing I never will be.
