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Jenna
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It's 2o12.
I dig up the capsule alone, because I want to be by myself.
In the capsule I find concert ticket stubs, about 30 or so. Some important CD's... Jump_Little_Children, Will_Hoge, Sheryl Crow's 'Tuesday Night Music Club', Miles Davis's 'Kind of Blue', Led Zeppelin IV, Ben Folds Five's 'The Unauthorized Biography Of Reinhold Messner', and mixtapes *and* mix CD's.
I find my own creations in pottery which I don't do anymore, much to my own chagrin.
I find a lot of blank books, some written in and but many never touched because they were too 'nice' and I never had anything profound enough to say.
I find beat up copies of 'On the Road', 'Fight_Club' and 'Catcher in the Rye'.
I find archives on CD-R, reminders of how digital my life was and continues to be: photographs, music, works of art and writing, all preserved digitally.
I find dried flowers, each one the mark of a special occasion and kept as a reminder.
I find debts still unpaid.
I find dreams that I buried unwillingly, and regrets I wish I hadn't dug up.
I find my idealism that I left there 10 years back.
In ten years I have become more jaded and world-weary. I have accomplished little and I'm ten years older to boot. I spent my youth trying to change something, to make something happen, only to be struck down by politics, bitterness, or my own inadequacies.
Now I'm making do. Bartending, maybe, or playing the starving artist game, or both. Occasionally putting together web pages for small-time clients, nothing big. I'm almost 29 though.
::shudder::
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020222
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