One Year Out

   That's the thing. Or that's a thing. When I get back, I'll be 23. I don't know how I'll be like then. Whether I've changed or improved or had ideas. I don't even know what I'll be like when I'm 22. Or 34. Or anything. Christ was 34 when he was killed, right? (36?) Something like that. Either way it's older than I can even imagine being. I don't know where I'll be. Whether I'll have gone far or just stayed where I am. That's still pretty young, especially considering how significantly he had changed the world at that age.

   I don't know where I'll be, but I imagine looking at 34 and seeing where I am and where I was and where I will have been and I know that in at least some way I'll have evolved. I don't know how evolved, and I think I won't be able to know how evolved because of my youth or because of any other reason. To admit that you're young, that's either in celebration or in angst. I guess here it's both. The youth is wasted on the young, but, angst angst angst. If that were true, old people should be angsty. When young folks are angsty they call it just being youthful, but when middle aged people are angsty they call it a crisis.

   But I don't know. In fourteen years, will I see myself as as big a fool as I myself see my past self of comparable age ratio to present self? From experience I know I will think myself foolish nonetheless, but exactly how foolish? Is it exponential? Do you view yourself as exponentially foolish? At least when I was younger I kept my foolishness to myself. No, no. My foolishness came about from thinking that I was so very wise. No I'm not so hot on myself, and we're going to drop that topic before we get into whether realizing that you're foolish makes you wise makes you foolish.