Quarter life crisis

Wednesday was a blur
You see, I had a particularly bad day
Thursday was spent
Overanalysing Wednesday
And on Friday
I found myself wanting
To fast forward to
Chicken for lunch Sunday

So Friday came and
I met a friend
We spoke about religion
Books, philosophy, politics
And aging fathers
We spoke about how much
Was still to be done

The trappings and failings of youth
And unabashed recklessness were spoken of
Though we were barely reckless
Sitting in a coffee shop
Eavesdropping on the murmurs of others
And so Saturday came and
As I stood on the precipice of 25
I felt older than ever

The gray hair monster
Self generating itself
With every hair plucked
The naivety of romantic idealism
A wild, alcohol induced night
Seemed like someone else’s life
Seemed too far away