Age is really not just a number. The more I begin to realize my own age, the more I start to look back at my life just to find how immobile it has been. For once I am afraid. I am afraid that I am in the middle of nowhere; I am neither too old nor too young. I am not 25 now, not even close. I really don’t care about the freckles and the gray. But yes they have started to show off late.
Criteria of being over 30 crisis is even worse than what I felt when I started dealing with my mid life crisis. I can really relate to my older generation in so many ways that once I used to rebel on. I have certainly made peace with myself. My being a maverick to the responsible one has been quite a hard-hitting truth.
I no longer have the strength to climb up the mountain; well to be honest I never had that even when I was 5. I may be overthinking on some stuff but the truth prevails. You cannot look at life the way you did 5 years back. You cannot juggle between those years and escape. The standard interview question of where do you see yourself 10 years from now, may have the answer as, “probably in an old age home. “
I snarl at the very thought of this entire thoughtfulness. But in the end – It is what it is. Period.
I am as jealous as a cat and as grumpy as a bull. Outraged for so much and divided into two. A soul that stood strong in front of the heavy winds is right now recovering from flu. I think it’s an utter dilemma, I haven’t been able to take the ignominy of being gray haired that well. I learnt this phrase as “the ignominy of being forgotten” in class 10. I still use it with as much excitement as it was 17 years ago. I may not have completely been in the shackles of age. Although I do feel slightly offended at the use of my innocence, as it is not expected of you at this age.
One thing that for sure a sign of ageing is I being gibberish. I sure have started to talk nonsensical. Well when did I not previously! Certainly a case of dementia. Hallucinations have not started as yet, but I am sure when I close my eyes, I will see the corpse of dead friendships, incomplete relationships, and non-existing significant others.
Life has been good though; I have been weaving my happiness well and am coming on good. It is just usual for an elderly to sulk at everything. So this is just a routine now. Benefits of being in that queue are excuses come to life, something to play along with….