Trudging Slowly Over Wet Sand, Back To The Bench Where Your Clothes Were Stolen, This Is The Coastal Town, That They Forgot To Close Down

--"Every Day is Like Sunday", Morrissey

Casey was digging through her old scrapbooks while I was over at her place the other day and came across some old St. Rita's pictures. I mean--knowing how bad I am at keeping photographs organized or in some place I can readily find them again, it's been awhile since I saw what everyone looked like, oh, from twenty years ago. It really was like looking on some other country or some other time period like the 1800's. The pictures of me I didn't even recognize. It was as if I was looking into the face of someone I had never met before. I had more than one moment of "Were we ever that young, Weatherfield?" to which I would receive the reply, "I was. You were never that young, mojo."

Indeed, I might have looked that young, but I don't think I ever felt that young. I've always felt old for my age even when I've acted immature. I've always felt like I've known more, could handle more, and wanted to do more than was age appropriate. Looking at myself in a mirror from the mid-80's is basically like looking at an earlier model of myself, but still completely functional as it is now. I believe I still had the same mindset back then, the same weird tendencies, and the same sense of self-identity that I carried with me when I was just a boy. I don't know what that says about myself that I may look a lot older from them, but I don't feel a lot older from then. I only feel more like the last twenty years haven't changed much for me--not for the worse or for the better. It just feels like I've had a whole lot of the same.


every day is like sunday

Seeing the old familiar faces of people I haven't heard from or seen in two decades--like Nicole, Krista, Rachel, and Caryl--isn't very healthy for me. It's like visiting a town I haven't seen in years and finding out that everything looks the same, but doesn't feel the same. Sure, I remember sorta what everyone was like back then, but I know they're not like that now. The paint and decor might still resemble the old facades they used to have, but they're not the same buildings I saw as a kid. If I were to meet most of these people now--Casey excluded--I doubt I'd have any emotional connection to their lives as they are being led now. If it weren't for the visual cues telling me we used to share eight hours a day together, I doubt I would have any interest in approaching any of them. They're not the same people I left behind. They wouldn't be the same people I left behind in Case's photographs. They wouldn't act like them, talk like them, or even resemble them in any way.

Nope, the only person as far as I can tell who would still resemble their former self would be me. I don't know which is more depressing, to revisit a town that you haven't been to in ages or to realize that you yourself have never left that sort of town ever in your lifetime.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers