I see them more this time of year, when a falling leaf becomes a scarce event, and the chill of snow hangs in the air like the warmth of rain did in the summertime. I see these kids- they are still kids no matter how twenty and so many months they claim to be- all over campus, smiling and laughing, comfortable and secure in their sweatpants and puff jacket ensembles, scarves emblazoned with the university's logo. This is pre-requisite, the immediate latching onto of new territory by way of symbols; four years ago the high school, now the college, and so on into the future of company logos and automobile hood ornaments. This is a way to associate. I see them almost every day as I wind around this hilly town on my way to nowhere. And I almost always let out a little snort of contempt when I do. But why?
I was like them once too. Perhaps slightly more cynical even at that time, but still more like them then than I am now. It was easier then to have style, to make plans and goals, to dream. I find it more difficult by the day to do these things now; faced with the idea of what is appropriate I shudder to think I might define myself in the coming days, let alone years. What is the appropriate style for a twenty-seven year old now? And what of plans, goals? I cannot but sigh when pondering, "dreams." When did I become so melancholy?