I am twenty-two, and I think I’m over the hill.

I feel each heartbeat like a death knell, impossible to get back, a wasted second of a finite life.

I am twenty-two, and I want to dream outrageously.

I ask questions. I craft sentences.

I find myself awake at midnight, arrested by a thought.

I am awed by trees and ancient mountains, by rivers and unfinished canyons.

I feel music shaking in my blood cells.

I am twenty-two and I want to dream outrageously, but I don’t know how.

I want to go to work each day excited, invigorated, daunted, exhausted.

I want my job to seize my imagination and make it impossible to let go.

I want it to be hard. I want it to shape me. I want to love the hurtles that can re-create me.

(I work at a host stand and walk people to tables.

I smile constantly.

I want to throw myself out the window.)

I am twenty-two and I still believe in magic, because I still know where to look.

I believe in the goodness of people, but I am afraid that belief will change when I get hurt.

I want to fall in love and stay there, but finding a soulmate seems improbable, impossible.

I want to travel. I want to meet people. I want to learn.

I am twenty-two, and I still listen to the way the wind navigates New York City.

I am twenty-two, and I constantly wonder what it means to be alive.

I am curious, but my mind is full.

I am passionate, but I have no direction.

I am young, but I am not a child.

I am twenty-two, and the world has not yet claimed me.

I am twenty-two, and I still wonder if I can make me.

Change- is the only constant. Order can be found if sought; but... chaos is inherent. 

Break it down. 

Break down. 

Break. 

Down. 

Dawn. 

Done. 

Day breaks. The light is the chaos. We find strange comfort in this accepted change, in this perpetual cycle of breaking and falling, rising and setting. 

We live to see the light. 

We know it will get dark. 

We imagine a place where darkness and chaos do not exist, some utopian hodgepodge of warmth, light, security, and comfort. We daydream of a heavenly stasis where all is good and all is well, forever and ever, and on and yawn and on.

And, yawn... 

Fuck that shit. 

Sure, a properly positive existence can be defined by harmonic balance. That doesn't mean it's sustainable nor does it really mean that it's supposed to be exclusive. Change will happen. It's one of the few things we truly know. Life itself is change. Change is chaos. Life is chaos. While living, we are presented with a constant choice. Accept the chaotic change -or- be the positive change. The choice is simple. Break down with the chaos or break the chaos down.

Order up.

Here's your change.