Walking to the train this morning I bumped into a friend with whom i’d gone to high school and hadn’t seen in at least seven years. The crazy thing is that we grew up over 600 miles away and yet still managed to walk into one another in Bklyn. Of course there was a moment of happiness as a result of our meeting but that soon changed into a kind of suffering that I am at pains to explain but seems to me to demand some kind of investigation.
The crux of it would seem to be the simple fact that in the almost 20 years since we were in high school together, so much has changed and we are surely not the same people we once were. She had two in tow and was expecting her third and I am a sober, Buddhist father of two: far cries from the messed up, drunken teenagers we once were. I see now that much of the dis-ease I feel about the situation has to do with my fear of explaining my life. And why? I don’t know but it almost seems as if I don’t want to tarnish what I imagine to be our memories of ourselves when we were young and, dare I say, cool.
Cattāri Brahmavihārā 
You certainly had the modern Fonzi thing going with that leather jacket, though instead of ayyyy you had ciao.
By: jonkot on 12/12/2013
at 2:19 am