On paper, you can go out with I, you two may hit it off and enter a serious and meaningful relationship. One where you’re in the 30s. The vibe is a more serious one compared to the connections in my 20s. The stakes are higher. You have money now, too. You travel, you grow together. She’s a household name with your family and friends.

“How’s Inaara?” The family asks.

Mom likes her.

“When do you think you may want to settle down with her?” Mom asks one day when its just us alone, cooking in the kitchen.

That’s on paper. But in reality, none of this was possible. Because the person I’m meant to be with is out there, and there’s only a little bit of growing left for us to join one another.

To feel what its like to have all the things you previously dreamed of, in the place you dreamed of them for.

“When I was a fighting man, the kettle drums they beat
The people scattered gold dust before my horse’s feet.
But now I am a great king, the people hound my track
With poison in my wine cup, and daggers at my back.” ^[1]

“Gleaming shell of an outworn lie, fable of Right divine
You gained your crowns by heritage, but Blood was the price of mine.
The throne that I won by blood and sweat, by Crom, I will not sell
For promise of valleys filled with gold, or threat of the Halls of Hell.” ^[2]

“What do I know of cultured ways, the gilt, the craft, and the lie
I, who was born in a naked land and bred in the open sky.
The subtle tongue, the sophist guile, they fail when the broadswords sing
Rush in and die, dogs – I was a man before I was a king.” ^[1]

This is helping me a lot right now, because I’m growing tired of being told what to do.

A meditation in front of Gleason…

A Poltergeist pizza from Extreme Pizza…

Gladiator II

Monk: Monk and the Three Julies

And knowledge that this time tomorrow, I will be driving stick!!!

See post below. Now is the time to panic and procreate.

I am still in my 20s.

“Each day is an end in and of itself,” I’ve been saying recently. Today, I am in my 20s. Tomorrow, I will not be.

When I think about my position at JP, and the responsibility with what I’m doing, my colleague relationships, the trust of my clients, etc., it makes me feel like it belongs to a 30 year old Daniel, if that makes sense.

I have done so much in my 20s. I am days away from receiving the things I’ve spent half my 20s wanting. A Tudor Black Bay 58 (it may be in the house), a Hyundai Veloster N. This Vegas trip.

Some of my accomplishments involve surviving some of the most unexpected things.

Surviving Kunal’s death, losing Amar, fighting a graduate school corrupt beyond words.

“Where are you calling from?” And: “What are you driving right now?”

“The same car since high school. Mitsubishi Lancer. But I just got a high paying job,” I stuttered, forced into a feeling of insecurity, of having to explain myself worthy.

“Oh, congratulations.”

“Ya know, I was on the fence about buying one of your pretentious little Nazi shitboxes, but you helped me make up my mind.”