I miss writing down ’2008′ when I record the date on things. Not because 2008 was a good year for me–it was one of the worst, actually–but because two thousand eight has that wonderful character ’8′ at its tail. ’8′ has so many good qualities. It’s perfectly symmetrical. It has no beginning or ending, flowing fluidly and endlessly into itself. It could be a racetrack, or an electrial circuit, or the orbit of an eccentric star. If you stand it on its side it becomes the symbol for infinity: ∞
It’s the endlessness of the character that makes it so attractive, that made writing the date so pleasing. ’2008′ looked like a year that might not ever end. At times I felt I would never end, that my moment and everyone in it would stay the same way forever. I would smoke pot and have sex and listen to music and go out dancing, and it would never stop. Not any of it. I would pick a calling, any calling, and work towards it without ever having to reach it. I would be childishly in love with you.
And I would never grow older. It was not possible. The days fell through us, and meant nothing.
I wish I’d taken more photographs that year.
