6:05 a.m. - 2007-10-23
Does anybody remember laughter?
Fun. Pure, unadulterated good times. I wasn't aware what I was missing until I watched The Beatles 1965 Shea Stadium recently. The look of utter joy on their faces as they played a then acceptable 30 minute set to tens of thousands of screaming teenagers. John, Paul, George and especially Ringo had a look of bliss as they plowed through their newest material and a few of their "old" songs. A bad mix, no stage monitors and the fans being hundreds of feet away didn't even dampen their spirit. God, how I envied them. I know there must be great peace of mind from finding what you're meant to do, realizing that you're not only supremely talented at it, but people can't wait to watch you do it.
Once again I am stuck wondering if there is something that I was meant to do, and if so, why don't I seem to have even the slightest inkling what it is? Put more bluntly: how do you manufacture passion when you feel none? Work, friends, family, hobbies. I take no pleasure in any of them anymore. I can't get over the sneaking suspicion that it's all just over for me. That I someow missed my chance...
