Twenty-two and counting.

So, it's nearly my birthday. Big twenty-second official day of being out in the world, outside the biological protection gifted me by maternity. Some people might consider it worth celebrating on a massive scale - to imagine that one would have managed to live this long without falling deathly ill or gaining enemies from ill-gotten goods and activities - with friends, family, and whoever else happens to be around.

What's there to celebrate? Really, someone give me a clue here.

As far as I can tell, I've just managed to suck up resources, mainly time and money, from the people and world around me. The only benefit that I can see to it is such that I've been able to provide certain people services, labor or otherwise, that have impacted their short-term living. When people have questions, I try to listen first and answer when needed. Do I want to solve the problems of the world? No way. I'm much more inclined to let the world figure out its own solutions, let the people work out their own lives and be thus proud of having done it on their own. I suppose I'm a real stickler for making sure that an individual knows how to do whatever is necessary for them to do without relying on other individuals. Albeit, this isn't much for the juxtaposition in my mind of community/communal values, wherein all the participants contribute in some meaningful way, often enough using specific talents and abilities to better their quality of life. In a way, it's very problematic to suggest this, mainly because I have relied on the assistance and support of so many people that, without their contributions, I could not be here. I would not exist. Maybe I've just decided to credit humanity on its progress and simultaneously bemoan its ineptitude between divisions of class, race, creed, and the like. Simply put, learn to depend less on the things the world does around you. Learn to make your own way, learn to motivate yourself and get to the things you want to do after you've gotten to the things you need to do.

Seems like people would really like to celebrate me (as if I were something to celebrate). I don't see what the fuss about it is. To me, it will feel like any old Wednesday - another day to live through, another middle-of-the-week-lazy-morning. So be it! That's all I care to experience it as. I don't deserve special treatment, nor do I require that anyone else feel the need to buy me presents or lavish me in a fete of tradition and symbolism, almost all of which is perfectly normal in the greater scheme of society. Maybe I'm unconsciously afraid of aging, or perhaps I've accepted the fact that every day develops based on what I choose to do. I don't believe that anyone should devalue what time we're given to live, but in my own thinking, I don't care to fret about it. Milestones might be worth considering as especial moments, like the erratic splash of a single raindrop in deep, calm waters. They happen, set off all kinds of busyness and the collective experiences spread out and away. Eventually, you fail to recall them, fondly, disparagingly, however it works. They fade and become part of that larger body of water in an infinitesimally small increase. The lake becomes slightly larger, one drop bigger, but to the casual eye, there's no telling there was even a drop to begin with.

I'm not depressed, mind you. I'm just looking at things from some kind of bitter, removed point-of-view, haha.

Okay. Birthday. 22. Twenty-second. I'm "turning 22." Iwakaluakumalua makahiki o'u. Whoopee. Frabjous day, calloo callay. I have things for which I am thankful, having survived twenty-two years of uncertain living conditions and questionable influences, haha. But what have I been doing recently, you ask? Carving. Running. Cleaning house. Sleeping (lots of it). De-stressing. Not much musical playing or compositioning, but lots of listening. A great deal of thinking, too. Maybe thinking too much? Trying to research, trying to learn. Lots of attempts at becoming great. Not many success stories, but enough encouragement around to keep my ego from completely deflating.

I don't have any cool adventures or ridiculous experiences to cajole you with. I don't have a bunch of awards or accolades to impress. All I did this summer was described above, in varying degrees of intensity. I'm satisfied with the way things worked out. Could I have done more? Oh, sure. I have no doubt that so many things "could have" been completed, or at least started. Unfortunately, that is not the case. Sounds boring, doesn't it? Well, it wasn't.

I guess... more blogging to come in the near future. I'll have things to say about research and reflections on life, but for now, I'm turning twenty-two.