01 02 03 Eleanor Greer: weddings...dang. 04 05 15 16 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 31 32 33

weddings...dang.

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I am sitting on the floor of the most wonderful hotel room, on the verge of vomiting from junk foord overload and surrounded by giddy women. The girls are watching Sweet-16, a sickening show put on by MTV and I find myself wishing for those high school sleepovers full of endless conversation and prank phone-calls. I have been thinking a great deal about age. It is age that constitutes the gap between my grandparents and myself, it is age that makes me now mindful of weddings and death and full-time jobs. Am I wiser with age or do I merely think a lot more? While I am mindful of more and more as the years progress, I feel as though I seldomly reach conclusions.

Rilke writes to the young poet that one is to know oneself and to seek answers by going into the self, to dive into one's childhood and to seek out what drives them to live in a specific way. I need to visit my old hometown and have decided upon the need to travel. Perhaps I should become one of those travelers, catching trains with my entire life savings wrapped in a kerchief and strapped to a stick over my shoulder. Ah ha! A way to avoid more of these wedding things!! I must be some sort of genius.

Good night moon.
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