On the Name
What’s in a name? I spent half of my 20th birthday (if it wasn’t already clear, that was quite a monumental occasion) listening to New Order. I love the song Age of Consent with a passion, and it made me think hard about what this upcoming age should be called - for me, that is.
I made it rhyme, because I wasn’t going to be satisfied unless it did, but there you have it: Age of Intent.
Intent and intention. That’s what I hope these years will be defined by. I am constantly overwhelmed by the passage of time, and so I don’t want things done haphazardly. I want to do things with conviction and reason, and if I fuck up, as I invariably will, at least there was some misplaced intention behind it. Physics has taught me that life itself is random, things developed by chance, and that addressing the question “why?” rarely yields answers. But on a microscopic level, maybe I can convince myself that I have a little more say in the matter.
And that’s that.
