intelligent dance music. somehow, i'm often disappointed by the thoughts that "adults" think. the term "adult" is defined as anybody older than me by four years. i have trouble communicating with "adults". the beauty of the blog is that you can read about everyone in the world and not have to actually interact with them. so it leads you to draw broad conclusions on entire demographics of people, based on narrow two dimensional profiles. i'm actually very comfortable with that. it's a bit like watching lots of sitcoms and mtv but with more channels and varied programming.



i've read a few teenagers' blogs, which tend to be rather stupid on the whole but still semi-relatable, and sometimes downright outstanding. as for adult blogs, i sometimes will go to some highly recommended blog, read a few lines about kids, vans, husbands, and my interest level drops precipitously. nothing they have to say could possibly interest me. i don't relate to them at all, and the things they talk about just seem to me to be terribly, horrifically, boring. i'm sure they would say the same things about me.



and then you'll read blogs by adults who are writing as if they were kids. talking about hair and shaking their bon bon and how much they pine away for their boyfriends and you have to wonder "is this what i have to look forward to?" will my life as portrayed by blog be the same in ten years as it is today? will i get gradually less and less interesting, having to resort to talking about cats as my posts of the day? what to do what to do. my answer to all of this is this: boring kids turn into boring adults. armed with this broad misconception, i no longer have to worry that i'm the reason and the problem behind why i don't connect with the adults i read online. they were always boring! it's not because i can't relate! and so, i placate myself.



the most shocking thing i've realized, as i get up there in age, is that you remain forever young. as you slowly flip the calendar, the perception of an immense maturity gap between the teenage and adult worlds fade away. of course, the gap is huge when you look backwards -- at the seventeen year old idiots loitering at the local mall. but when you think about your life and thoughts at seventeen, it was most likely pretty similar to your life and thoughts now. is this not depressing? when the hell do people grow up? and start thinking about real things? what are the real things to be thought about? what's a proper adult thought? am i doomed to ponder and wonder about the same things over and over for eternity? kill me now.



in middle school the biggest decision i had, and the thing that i was most concerned about, was what i was having for lunch on a particular day. same thing now as a working twenty five year old. are the similarities eerie? what is going on here? can you really call it regression if you've never even taken a step forward?