Well, I did it again. I spent another late night chilling with friends when what I should have been doing was finishing my law school applications. I’m already two weeks past my personal deadline, after all. But hell, you know what? I honestly believe that there was no better way to spend my time tonight.

Sometimes living for the present isn’t as simple as only thinking about today or about what’s coming within the next few weeks. Sometimes living for the present compels you to confront the “far,” uncertain future and all of the hard times that it has in store for you. At this particular instance in my life, during a time that most would still consider to be my “early years,” I choose to think about death. It’s the one wrong turn that we all see coming from miles away, and yet it never fails to break your heart when somebody in your life finally rounds that corner. Freaking mortality.

Anyway, the thought of death doesn’t occur to me because I’m particularly sad at the moment. Nor, for that matter, does it cross my mind because I’m actively trying to suck the joy out of my own life. No. I contemplate death because it reminds me that now, at this stage in my life, I have as much as I could ever want.

Maybe my friends have noticed something. Maybe they’ve sensed me smiling at them from my silent corner while they carry on. As fun and as vital as we all are when we get together, I can’t help but think that one day, we’ll all be gone. And though my heart stings slightly from the thought of losing any of those guys, I know that there’s little good in mourning prematurely. So my heart swells, and I’m filled with warmth and an irrepressible joy for having ever found friends who make me laugh as hard, and who make me feel as loved. Mind you, I’m writing all this without having tasted a single drop of alcohol tonight. I tend to be a weepy drunk, as you might imagine.

I guess all I’m saying is, joy doesn’t have to be an ephemeral thing. It is a condition that you must constantly insist upon in order to have it — even if that means occasionally bumming yourself out with thoughts on the inevitability of loss and suffering. Joy isn’t so bad once you get the hang of it.