So, I was thinking...

Earlier today I was looking at some assorted posts through out the internet from those unfortunate souls who wax poetic, (very poorly) sometimes with annoying- sometimes with comedic results about their sad lives, or their meaningful thoughts, or really deep issues that just get them down, you know mannn? Well, I put that forth as a disclaimer, because I in no way mean to be them, or reflect the glow from their tragic dying sun- BUT

I was just searching through my old email for something, and found an email to a friend I had written that sounded like a younger, happier, better version of myself- from only a year ago. So I digged deeper through the emails to find what the variable was that made me seem so much fresher than now, and the more I read, I found letters that sound 10 times wittier, more insightful, with healthier activies than I currently possess, and I thought- geez....

I'm getting worse, not better with age. I like each older version of myself better, which I guess means I like the subsequent versions worse each time.. Isn't that lame? I don't want to have a pity party, but cmon, that's sad. I'm a helium balloon that's abandoned in the living room and slowly fading and sinking to the level of the carpet.
But I don't think this is just some aging thing either.. It's not a "Oh, I wish I was young me again" because even at the tender juvenile stage of 21, I've already had those moments.. and it's not that... we're talking about the span of a year here... it seems as if the doctor may be entering the room to tell me about my rare condition, the tests have come back, and then he says "I'm sorry Ms. Hughes-Skandijs, the results were positive... you're getting lamer."