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This is a question Getting Old

Drimble asks: When was it last brought home to you just how old you're getting? We last asked this in 2004, and you're eight years older now. Eight. Years.

(, Thu 7 Jun 2012, 13:24)
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I haven't posted on here for a while,
but seeing this question has pulled my nose from my maya books and set my fingers tapping. This topic is almost constantly on my mind these days, not so much because I am now a lumbering dinosaur with the mind of a kid but because the days/weeks/years are now flying past at the speed of light.

It's an odd sensation. I'm only 34, but then that means that I was celebrating my 30th birthday four and a half YEARS ago, and not months, which is what it feels like. It was Christmas 20 minutes ago, and I didn't get a single bit of lego.

It feels like if the rate of acceleration keeps increasing, before I know it I'll be dead of old age, and I won't even have gotten used to having to shave. I probably won't have time to finish this book.

Another thing is my memory. I used to have a great memory. I used to go to the flicks, see a film and would be able to recall almost every scene. These days I have to be reminded whether I've seen a film or not. Sometimes if I can't sleep, I try to test myself to see if I can remember what I had for dinner each day for the last week, and it's surprising how often I'll get stuck on yesterday for at least 5 minutes. It was fish and chips, by the way. I remember because I had peas too. I don't remember what I had on monday. Wait.... is this thursday?

I suppose it's a symptom of having a bit of a sedentary life. The big memories stand out and seem as though they were yesterday, but the rest is just mundane mince.

It's also a jarring moment in a young man's life when he realises there is a marked difference between the required legal age and the required moral age of potential ladyfriends.

It's horrible. It wouldn't be so bad if at least the world was getting better as it whizzed past, but it isn't. It's getting more and more shit each time I remember to look. I remember staggering from a pub at the age of 20 and thinking to myself "you know what? I love music. All kinds of music. I love dance music, I love rock music, I love metal music. Every generation hates the next's music, but I literally cannot think of a single direction popular music can go that I won't like." And then what happens? Pop Idol, Fame Academy, X-fucking-factor. After I've finished gasping and tutting, I turn around and expect everyone else to be doing the same only to be astonished to find that no, everyone else on the planet is quite happy with this horrible trend. It's happening with everything. Every single creative outlet humanity has is being reduced to one generic lump of teen-oriented shit, because teenagers haven't seen it all before, they're stupid and they're rich, so they're the most lucrative market. Meanwhile, we're planning ever more sinister ways to stop our old people surviving for very long because the economy can't support them. The whole world is turning into a horrible cross between Hollyoaks and Logan's fucking Run.

In summation, I appear to be a 34 year old pensioner, angrily banging on the window of life, warning youngsters to stay out of my garden. I'll burst that ball if it goes near my petunias.
(, Thu 7 Jun 2012, 17:17, 5 replies)
I think I may love you.

(, Thu 7 Jun 2012, 17:25, closed)
*twiddles eyebrows*

(, Thu 7 Jun 2012, 17:30, closed)
Does saucy old lady wink

(, Thu 7 Jun 2012, 17:34, closed)
Wait until you be come a parent. The last nine months since my daughter was born have gone so quickly it is scary.

(, Thu 7 Jun 2012, 18:42, closed)
agreed on all of this
Though i am 39 this year and 40 is looming
(, Tue 12 Jun 2012, 10:30, closed)

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