life in laramie iii.

There is a sense of stability here, that I have never encountered before. The next year and a half lay out in front of me the way highways disappear into the horizon, here--seemingly never-ending, far off into the distance. My days have a routine to them. I drive the same roads, see the same trees, go to the gym, sit in my little room with my desk and bed and books. I am content, not lonely or despondent or sad, but then again, not incredibly, overwhelmingly, ecstatically happy, either. It's just a quiet, stable, content-ness that I am starting to associate with Being An Adult.

I string for AP during a football game that Wyoming isn't supposed to win--but they do, in a stunning two point upset, and so when the game ends, I hoist my lens behind my neck and run onto the field, shooting with my camera the entire time. The crowd is its own beast, moving and swaying and pulsing, and I'm in the middle of it, taking photos, and oh man, I love my job.

The next day, my photos are on websites across the country, and it's both A Big Deal and Not A Big Deal At All at the same time. This is what I do now, after all.

I worry that I'm growing up too fast. That my life doesn't have enough falling-down furniture or Christmas lights, or feet stomping down the street late at night. I see it all in film photos, marching up and down my walls, but there aren't any photos, because those things aren't happening. Sure, there are parties, and quiet moments, but it's not the same. There are times when all I want to be is irresponsible, young, full of quick feelings and adventures, and I'm terrified that it's slipping away.

It was one a.m., twice, and me and another photographer took advantage of it, eating Mexican in the only 24 hour eatery in Laramie, pleather booths and idle conversation, and isn't that what being 22 is about~

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