my back is killing me.

it's like wisdom teeth, back pain is the kind of thing that sort of makes you realize you're old, or at least think about it if you're not. i'm sure it's nothing that's a big deal it's not a chronic deal or anything like that and on top of that i can think of a couple reasons why it's hurting, either because i slept funny last nite, or it's the delayed effect from carrying that stupid fridge up the stairs by myself.

so anyways, i'm looking at the first sentence of the last paragraph and i'm realizing that getting wisdom teeth isn't like back pain at all. wisdom teeth don't really make you realize that you're old, maybe i think that because i had enough room for mine, so i could definitely be wrong.

age is a funny thing, especially with its relationship to maturity. it's kinda sad that we're, by and large, narrow minded enough to think that age and maturity can share only a relationship of positive correlation. that is to say that we've come to believe that maturity can only increase with age, or put more finely, that only age, by nature accompanies increased maturity. that's not to say anything of our penchant to project that paradigm nearly uniformly and unequivocally. making an attempt to view maturity in other ways opens the door to admitting that we *have* to look at things subjectively, and worse yet (for many, anyways) it opens the door to ambiguity.

ambiguity serves to make a lot of us uncomfortable, we find solace in certainty and ambiguity takes away from that. it's the kind of thing that forces us to actually be thoughtful as opposed being bound by knee-jerks and broad strokes, which, ironically, we often find more comfortable. when we're locked into a perception that allows a formula or an algorithm to do our thinking for us we don't allow ourselves to be challenged by truth that we might encounter.

i've rambled long enough. next time, i'll use my legs.

feeling: melancholy
thinking of: my bench
music: "little things" bush