Maybe this is it. Maybe this is when we distill the essence of our mid-American young manhood. We are the products of others’ influence and the institutions we’ve attended, but we are not the mean summary of our academic careers or the fulfillment of expectation. This is not a neo-existentialist crisis or a testing of boundaries. We are volunteer. We are the eager pursuants, trying to figure out how to be alive in this benumbed digital age. We are bright eyes on the horizon, four wheels on the asphalt, no time for sleep, no reason to waste that time when we are together. We are penitent to mom and dad and God but for now we are fallen at the feet of chemical revelation, forgetting what it means to be nearly grown and remembering what it means to be drunk with your friends; remembering that when things were good, they were great, when they were bad, they weren’t that bad. Everyone happy, everyone safe, everyone cool. Is it now, the time to tear the fervent eastern highway? Is it now, the time to set out towards self-destruction, towards self-discovery? Is it now, is it now? One moves, the other follows, call it walking, and all these words seem excess compared to the ones we are waiting to hear.
Here we go.