What young people don't know - and I certainly didn't when I was a young buck - is that after a certain point in life, the body keeps on aging, but inside you still feel just like you did in your prime. Say, 30 to 35. Your self-image defaults to that picture of yourself, unless you consciously correct it.Or the body won't do what it used to do. (Yeah, that too. Shit.)
And sometimes if the light is right, and I'm far enough away from the mirror, I glance at my reflection and think, "Well yeah you could be 35. Almost."
But then I blink and look closer. Damn. The eyes give it all away. The wrinkles, the bags, the bumps, the little age spots. (What the fuck?)
And this is a good (read blurry) picture. The reality is even more corrugated than you see here.
Oh well. Think I read somewhere once that wrinkles are the price you pay for living your life. Guess it's not such a bad deal after all.
But as I see it, youth is most definitely wasted on the young. If only I knew then what I know now.
Life is for joy, not sorrow. Enjoy it while you can.
