the no-mind not-thinks no-thoughts about no-things # buddha

16.01.02

okay. hear me bitch.

every other week, for the past few months, i've been receiving this from various 20-something people.

BEING TWENTY-SOMETHING

They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis."

It is when you stop going along with the crowd
and start realizing that there are a lot of things
about yourself that you didn't know
and may not like.

You start feeling insecure
and wonder where you will be in a year or two,
but then get hot and scared
because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish
and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you
were so close to
aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met
and the people you have lost touch with are
some of the most important ones.

What you do not realize is that
they are realizing that too and are not really cold or
catty or mean or insincere,
but that they are as confused as you are.

You look at your job.
It is not even close to what you thought you would be
doing
or maybe you are looking for one
and realizing that you are going to have to start at
the bottom and are scared.

You miss the comforts of college, of groups,
of socializing with the same people on a constant
basis.
But then you realize that maybe they weren't so great
after all.

You are beginning to understand yourself and what
you want and do not want.

Your opinions have gotten stronger.

You see what others are doing
and find yourself judging a bit more than usual
because suddenly you realize that you have certain
boundaries in your life
and add things to your list of what is acceptable and
what is not.

You are insecure and then secure.

You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your
life.
You feel alone and scared and confused.
Suddenly change is the enemy
and you cry and cling on to the past with dear life
but soon realize that the past is drifting further and
further away
and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or
move forward.
The stupid ones plateau, the smart ones rise.

You get your heartbroken and wonder how someone you
loved could do such damage to you
or you lay in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone
decent enough to get to know better.
You love someone but maybe love someone else too and
cannot figure out why you are doing this
because you are not a bad person.
One night stands and random hook ups start to
look cheap
and getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to
look pathetic.

You go through the same emotions and questions over
and over and talk with your friends about the same
topics because you cannot seem to make a decision.

You wonder what in the hell is wrong with you.
You worry about loans and money and the future and
making a life for yourself
and while winning the race would be great,
right now you'd just like to be a contender!

We are making a lot of mistakes, but helping one
another learn from them.
We will piss one another off,
and laugh at the end of a conversation that started
with angry words.
We are a group that talks behind the backs of the same
people we call to meet up with on a Friday night,
but we are sorry about it and we know that we were
just being insecure like they have been.

What you may not realize is that everyone reading this
relates to it and we are all in this together.
We are in our best of times and our worst of times,
trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing
out.

We are friends,
and in 10 years we will be friends who have figured
out where we fit in this world.

okay, to those who believe in all of the above.

let me assure u that in time to come, things will not change.

at 35, more than 1/2 your married friends will probably be divorced.

at 45, your teenage daughter's bulimic

at 55, 'mid-life crisis', which is going to be exactly the same as this one, dawns

at 65, your first grandchild. great. but wait, he walks funny.

at 75, your tombstone says 'Buried Alive'

 

now, i'm not saying life's not worth it.

i'm just saying, 'please stop me sending junk mail'.

thank you for listening and have a nice day.