So begins a new chapter of my life: at 34, the game is changing– drastically.
The Arabs (perhaps just the Muslim variety?) believe in this notion that every seven years we become a new person. An Arab-Muslim-American friend of mine introduced me to the concept when I was about 28 (divisible by seven, you’ll notice) at a time when my life was indeed changing drastically.
I think the idea is normally meant to illustrate that over the course of seven years, the slow progression of changes culminates to us being a whole new person– but at that time in particular, for me, it was a drastic change all at once from one person to another– like a caterpillar emerging from a coccoon to become a butterfly.
This was the second time I had experienced such a transformation.
I was instantly convinced; as I scrolled back through the memories of my life to determine if indeed I could honestly say I felt like a different person every seven years, the rule of thumb turned out to be spot-on.
Certainly, I can’t remember what I was like as an infant, but logic dictates I must have been a pretty different person at seven years old, than I was as a new-born. I’m just guessing that I was probably terrible at video-games as a newborn (they were just barely even in existence at the time) but by the time I was seven, I was a pro, and pretty much obsessed with them.
By the time I was 14, I was REALLY into girls (but they weren’t into me) and I was super depressed. When I was 21, I was still pretty depressed, but I had been married for three years, supporting myself and my wife, working a customer-service job, and really into pen-and-paper role-playing-games.
Then came 28. I became a monster. My morals vastly fluctuated as I rebuilt ideas of what I thought was really important, and how I felt people actually operated. I had learned a lot about the nature of evil (taking time and great concentrated effort to study it) as well as a plethora of conspiracies and occult. Despite these oddities and seemingly unfavourable adjustments, I became more of a balanced, healthy, and functioning adult than I had ever been.
Fast-forward to today. I’m 34 as of 11 days ago, and even though that puts me at six years since the last official metamorphosis time, I feel that this one is coming a year early– or maybe I’m just better at detecting the beginnings of a new era. After all, I’m only starting to make the changes and adjustments, but I’m plunging into them.
“WHAT ARE THESE CHANGES!?” I hear you desperately screaming, just dying to know about my personal life (since I’m such a celebrity, you know)– and I’m glad you ask!
Well, for one, getting back on the daily-writing boat– or, at least, that’s the plan. Life is always hectic, but mine has been ill-conducive to my long-held plan of daily blogging for some time now. Of course, that’s an excuse– as is the age-old “I just wasn’t feeling motivated”– but that’s all I’ve got, and it’s the truth.
Now, though– I’m pressing myself for discipline. Most importantly, I’ve got a new love who’s actually eager to support me in my endeavors of productivity. She’s my angel, come from somewhere within the ether to bring light to my reality, and show me the way to fulfill my destiny.
Her name is Sarah, and I’m madly in love with her.
We’re “engaged”. “WHY THE QUOTATION MARKS?! WHY ARE YOU BEING SO DAMNED CRYPTIC?!?!” I hear you screaming, again!
This time, I’m not going to answer you, though. Y’know, for my own amusement.
Also because it’s a secret. (Tee hee.)
So like I said, new chapter, new me, trying new avenues because I know where the old ones go. I’ve been down those roads, and I know where they end.
It’s time to take the red pill again. It’s time to take risks.
It’s time for time.