"I'm an okay guy, by the way."

It's one of those mornings where I have a lot of things swirling slowly through my head, and I have to carefully sift what should and shouldn't be said.

Though it defeats the purpose to mention it, I will not be blogging on my mild annoyance with the explosion of "love" across the blogroll. How everyone's accounts of meeting the person of their dreams is making me ill and somewhat jealous. How I don't blame any of you, not in the very least, and I wish you all manner of happiness, but I'm having a hard time rejoicing with those who rejoice when I have no similar circumstance to rejoice over, myself. As I said, it defeats the purpose to mention that I'm not blogging about this, but I thought it should be stated.

For some reason, I have the sudden desire to hear "It'll All Work Out" by Tom Petty. The tune fits my mood. Sadly, I don't have it with me. I'm humming it to myself.

I'm not in a sad mood, really I'm not. Nor melancholy, though my tone may imply so. I'm feeling very... still. Very quiet. This seems to be my newest mood, something I didn't often experience before. Rather than sad, I become still and composed. I think more. I chew on words before sharing them. My breathing slows. I whisper.

I am changing. My personality is shifting. Some changes for the better, others perhaps not entirely. But I find myself different. I'm trying to get used to my new soul, in a sense, like a teenager forced to cope with an extra three inches of height. I feel a little clumsy in my head.

I watched a sad movie last night that masqueraded as a love story. But really, it was the story of three people who couldn't love fully. One was a rich older man who feared exposing his heart and soul, so he bought and sold affection, but never really loved. Another was a younger man who was an utter mess, but even after performing a miraculous transformation of sorts, we find that he did it for the girl, instead of for himself. The girl in question loved both men, but only because they filled in the empty parts of her heart. This may be an unfair characterization, but that's how I understood it. At the end, the young man and the girl were together and ostensibly happy, but I couldn't trust it. I knew it wouldn't last for them.

Incidentally, the music of the film was really mournful throughout. The composer knew the score.

Tonight, I'm going to dinner with some friends of mine. One of them is turning 31. I'm still only halfway through my 20's, but already I'm feeling uncomfortable about this. I have close friends in their 30's. In a few years, I'll be on the doorstep of the decade. And at this point, I have to ask myself, "What have I accomplished thusfar? What have I done that is of lasting value? What should I be doing right now?" Because just working and accumulating debt and paying off debt and blogging and watching TV and losing a little weight may be good things or may fill the days, but they don't last. Very little in this disposable world does. Our job is to find what has lasting value and grab a hold of it. (I know the answer, by the way. That doesn't mean I live like it, but I know the answer.)

"You are! You are going through one of those 'what does it all mean' things!" "Yes. I am. Very much so."

I'm still not melancholy, believe me when I say this. I'm contemplative. There's a difference. No self-pity here. Just pure, clean-burning introspection.

I've made the choices I've made. Done-bun can't be undone. Now what's left are the choices at hand and the paths to follow. Do with what's next, do nothing with what's past.

So, I will stop rambling, and get back to work. I'll dutifully complete the tasks at hand today, go to dinner tonight, and then go home and read a while before bed. And when I sleep, I will sleep soundly.