I am, more often than not, the youngest person in a room at any given moment of my fruitful social life; but as misleading as this may sound, I’m comfortable knowing the person I am while waiting for the company I keep to realize this as well. Age is relative as is size, not at all in shape, rather the proportion of the brain in relation to the conversations we make. Whether it be between white walls and dimly lit garages or under our covers or while snaking through traffic; the words we choose and the opinions we form make us who we are, regardless of the year it says on my driver’s license. People—they always say the same thing. I’ve come to expect the shock. Now this is not to say I’ve done my share of growing, just that I may have been born into the wrong generation, or quite possibly, I’ve simply neglected to shed the perception of a previous life.
Speaking of, I have finally decided what my afterlife will reflect in correspondence to my spirituality and, dare I say, faith. I had a dream I was met on the other side, with my True-self. Upon my arrival I encountered various parts of my spirit, as embodied by my physical identity, though each represented a single facet of my character. I recognized my jealousy, my anger, my doubt and conceit. I met my determination, my belief, my patience and altruism. And as I walked, the person I am in this life will have to reabsorb the parts of myself I admire as well as the pieces I do not yet have the strength to abandon. I will meet the best and worst my spirit has, in order to guide me into the further growth of who I am to become. But as my spirit matures throughout each new life I am given, eventually I will wake in that blissful place. Free.