aging issues

a little snip here, a little snip there and i'm reduced from a titanic style seductress to something a little more grown up. i'm still undecided on whether to scream at the blind near-sighted hair-stylist who deemed it fit to chop off 4 inches off my hair or whether i like it, maybe it just takes a little more getting used to. at the very least, i'm enjoying the few minutes reclaimed of time wasted washing that rapunzel locks.

perchance, i came across the blog of an 18yo sweet young thing and was captivated with her flair for writing. it wasn't the rantings of a ditzy blur cranial-vacuumed girl, like her peers which i so shun, but rather the workings of a rather witty, eloquent and definitely very pretty mind. it is strange to follow her footsteps and find that it so matches mine. we could have met. we could have seen each other in the space of time but never realised it. the places she frequent, the names she quote are all so familiar to me.

when i sit quietly at the nearest cafe, musing over my drink, sometimes i look around and watch for a little while the man sitting by himself who is pouring all his concentration and energy into the laptop screen that is blinking before him. or that sweet girl staring mesmerisingly into her boyfriend's eyes whilst whispering sweet nothings. or the group of men talking so loudly about some business deals and pretending to the world that they are somebody important and that their crazy half-baked plans will actually come through. sometimes, when schedule allows, i dream of their lives, who they have waiting for them, how they come about to this point in time and all the little secrets they have hiding in their little closet. by chance, i could be reading about the life of this girl i saw, one day sometime ago. it's like walking past a row of windows by the river on a dark stary night and stealing a peek into the brightly lit rooms to catch a glimpse of what others are doing and a page in their life. the feeling is at once intimate yet distant.

the realisation then struck. she could be me, as i was starting out in life.

the most scary part of growing old (another mention about age? yes, humour me) is not the wrinkled features, the slackening metabolism, the number game or even the mortality of the whole issue. rather, it is the fading of the spirit, the waning enthusiasm and the mellowing titillation. gone are the carefree laughters, the palpitating excitement or even the wrath-induced lioness roar. in its place is a matured meekness, acceptance and a cynical outlook. all lumped under the word 'mature'.

as we age, we forget to be thrilled. we forget to be amazed. we forget to feel.

the most scary thing about getting old is acting old.

and believing this is all that there is in life.