Getting and or looking old was never on my to do list. But it happens. Hopefully a not-so-secret pact with a friend will put a stop to it in about thirty years' time. I know a lot of people disagree with me on this, and believe me, I have endured all those lectures on life and how we should preserve it. Yes, I get their point. But I just can't seem to be comfortable with the fact that I will forget the current things happening around me, that I'll talk way too loud without even realizing it and all those other stuff that makes me want to retire at a young age. Don't even make me picture out the clothes. Please.
The other day, I had the chance to take a glimpse of that world, and it can only be described as a nightmare. The moment I got there, I wanted to get away as far as possible because I just didn't fit in and it clearly showed me the one thing I just can't seem to take. But I had to endure more than 30 minutes of staying there because I had to. Everybody at that book launch was over 50 years of age, except me. People with too much make up and perfume was everywhere. Some of them looked good, but I just can't imagine myself looking that way and I get the shivers whenever I think of it.
I know I may be blessed with youthful looks (I think guards, bartenders and bouncers will agree with me on this), but it won't last. I'll eventually be old and look old and rot like everyone else. I know its weird but I really think and feel about it this way.
I might not live to attend my future class reunions until somebody tells me where the fountain of youth can be found. If it doesn't exist, I'm sure my death will be a publicized homicide (at least I get to be on CSI). Hehehe.
Flashback: Death Becomes Her
No comments:
Post a Comment