It's been quite some time since I've put words to my thoughts, and it's been an interesting summer vacation for sure.

Lately the frequency of my depressive episodes has taken a sharp decline, so I've been thinking about a lot of things I typically have not in the past: namely, my extended future. Being that I placed so much of my thought processes into my perpetual state of depression and suicidal tendencies, I never really thought too much about my future well-being. The way I figured was that if I made it past 20 then I was doing well enough, if I made it to 30 then I'd be lucky. My natural auxiliary plan was to simply kill myself, which is what I always planned for but was ever so incapable of actually accomplishing. The way I had figured, I'd be dead before everything and everyone I had familiarized myself with. And I was alright with this, I still am quite honestly, just on different terms.

More recently though, with this lapse in what was at one time a never-ending cycle of self-destructive thoughts and action, I've placed my thoughts on other things.

For as much as I disdain my father, I can't help but wonder how much of a lonely existence he must lead. Knowing that the entirety of the lineage to which you've devoted your life to regards you in such sordid terms as I do my father, it's heart-wrenching for me and I'm not even the one being affected so much as I am the entity acting as the inflicter. My dad's screwed me over in so many ways, but when I see him sitting in his chair, all by himself, in silence, with nobody to talk to, even keep him company, I just feel like shit. And I think the reason I feel that way is because I sometimes wonder if that's what it's gonna be like for me when I get older. Am I just going to find a woman who will marry me out of pity and spawn a family destined to hate me? Am I gonna be that lonely man sitting all by his lonesome with nobody to share my existence, weighted down by the burden of hatred which I've incurred upon myself, however intentional or not? It's hard to think about, and I don't like to think about it even though I find it quite unavoidable.

There's an old man I see sitting in the Uwajimaya food court everyday, by himself, just eating and staring at the people walk by. For the longest time I've thought it was sad how he's just there everyday by himself, living out the same routine every day of the remainder of his current existence. Sometimes I'd wonder about his past. Did he outlive his wife? Did he even have one? Was he happy being alone? Or was he like my dad? One day I saw him sitting with a family, one which I could only assume was his own, and he looked content, a look I'd never seen the man wear. For once, I was happy that he seemed happy. After that day, though, it was back to his same old routine and even after seeing what I assumed was his family, I still couldn't help but feel sad every time I saw the man sitting there by himself. Sometimes I think about starting a conversation with him or maybe even joining him for lunch if he would so willingly oblige my offer, but I never do. I never do a lot of things.

I guess this is all to say that I've been thinking a lot more about life and growing older. I'm finally at a juncture in my life where a bigger picture is somehow becoming more lucid in my mind, as opposed to the fragmented one which was at once in its place. And I suppose that the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I'll become a carbon copy of my dad the older I get... and the thought of that becoming a reality is rather terrifying. But then only time will ever bring me an answer to my query, won't it? Such is the quandary of mortality.