Again, as has become my custom, I've neglected my poor lonely blog.

I went to ADPi informal last weekend; it was an 80's theme party. I was sitting there, having a drink, looking around at a bunch of people who were just barely old enough to know what the 80's were about, and yet were all way too young to have dressed like the people we were making fun of. My generation's view of the 80's was that of child's; not that of the teenagers who defined the 80s by there music, clothing, and behaviors. And I thought to myself, where are these people now? These people now in their early 30s; would they appreciate the humor in our mockery of the way they were? How will my generation, or more importantly, the next younger generation, view the way we were in the 90s in another 10 years? How is it that the decades become defined by the behaviors and attitudes of the youth? Pick a decade, any decade; what comes to mind? How is the culture of that day defined? By the youth. Interesting? Moot point? I dunno. And so I contemplated the succession of generations, the passage of time... and I became frighteningly aware of my own mortality. Nothing snuffs your fun like the point blank inevitability of your own death. Generations, representing billions of people, come and go. Each life a mere drop in the ocean of existence. The same thought crossed my mind just last night as I watched Lord of the Rings at the Elks. My mind drifted from the time on earth equivalent to the midievel-ish setting of the movie, accross the ages. I pictured civilizations rise and fall. Billions of lives came and went. So many people. So many hopes and dreams. My mental journey raced me through the ages in a matter of moments and it brought me to a theater... and I looked out at all the faces, sitting in the dark, all staring blankly at a movie screen. What are they doing?! Why are they just sitting there?! So precious few moments left... and so many wasted each day in idleness.

"This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality. Embrace this moment. Remember. We are eternal, all this pain is an illusion." - from "Parabola" by Tool