But man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated. --Ernest Hemingway

8.27.2008

Searching for some semblance of direction on this odd Wednesday night. I'm 27 years old and I don't know what I want to be when I grow up. I'm pretty sure I don't want to grow up. But there's something inside that tells me I should.

Here in Austin, it's been fun. But also polarizing. You begin to understand who it is that matters. The loose collections of memories you've become. There's been times in my life where I waged war against the distance and the incontinence of friends past with repeated missed calls and thinly veiled guilt-tripping voice messages. The champion of friendship to which time and/or space bear no obstacle worth mentioning. But I have lapsed before. And I fear the tides may turn once at last washing this brave skipper and skiff against the rocks.