The Number 23
The mind keeps spinning as the thoughts enter my brain in my rapid succession. I feel them whirling around like a whirlpool as so many memories of so many moments keep flashing before my eyes. I see visions of my past, of the highs and the lows that I experienced.
The times I laughed until tears formed in my eyes and my sides hurt, the random spontaneous journeys with my friends, our differences, arguments, and my school life. The best highs in life, my life highs and the intoxicated highs where going wild is the only road to take. Voices echo in my head, a peaceful invasion to the barrage of memories. The voices belong to the people who made those memories. I listen to them and drift back along memory lane, listening to the laughter and the conversation.
My mind drifts onto my moments of solitude, the ‘Me’ time I find very important; the moments in which I take a time-out from the rest of the world to hang out with myself. Sitting on beaches alone, watching the sunset and listening to the waves, alone inside my head, yet not feeling lonely at all. The times that I sometimes felt divided and wanted to leave everything behind. Thinking about my dreams and how I want to achieve them so badly. How I stumble and fall, how I get up again and smile and keep walking. My many deaths and resurrections and the things I stand for and everything in between.
It happens fast and each memory replaces the next soon. Some of the memories burn inside my head, leaving only the embers to glow in the darkness and light my way on my cerebral journeys assuring me that If I lose myself I have the memories to guide me back to who I am.
And then the clock strike midnight.
And I strike 23.
Happy faces wish me a Happy Birthday with warm smiles, hugs and pats on the back. Phone calls and SMS’s come flooding in wishing me the best and happy returns. And I stand there surrounded by some of the people I love the most, grinning like an idiot and showing that inside I’m not really 23 and I just don’t give a fuck about the number.
So this isn’t really goodbye 22. Your time is up but you will always remain, because you were an amazing run. The best I ever had yet. 23 needs to work hard to top you, but I’m behind the wheel and I got it gripped with both hands with the pedal to the metal and I make a silent vow to never stop. The wind is in my hair and the journey that I have traveled so far, stretches out farther. But I’m ready for it. The ride thrills me and the speed, although said to kill, keeps me alive. I got my thoughts focused and as I watch life pass me by in the rearview mirror, I feel a sudden surge of self induced innovation.
Another new beginning of all things to come?
Well I’m ready. Bring it on.