Age is simply a number

by Emma

Sometimes life really seems to creep up on you and then begins to go on past you, not giving a shit, and you are left rubbing your head and questioning ‘what the hell happened there?’

It’s like when you get that deja vu moment and then remember a memory which you must have stored deeply under a layer of dust, but seems only like yesterday. Then BAM.. you realise it was stored under that thick layer of celebral dust because it was in actual fact prehistoric. A complete emphasis on how much we have aged… without realising.

Damn.

It kind of blows everything else up and makes us question our own mortality as life really is slinking by, giving no shits, and taking no prisoners. Apart from loosening the skin around our eyes, breasts and ass, and leaving those amazing wrinkles to mark it’s god damn territory.

I remember being younger, looking up at 30 plus year olds (see how I am protecting my age there) and thinking ‘Jesus they are old’

Now I’m them, and I was right.

I have lost the years somewhere between wishing I was older, and then trying to be young and able to multitask.

Now I am the 30 plus year old looking at the younger generation and thinking ‘Oh my, they have so much to learn’.

Then I sit back smugly, drinking my cup of hot brewed tea and feel satisfied that with age, also comes wisdom, experience, and knowledge.

As those memories of hideous outfits, hand hiding hairstyles, god damn awful ex’s, and morning walks of shame, cloud my mind, I breath a sigh of relief.

I kindly hand that shit to the younger generation and I’ll own my age. As with age, comes realisation and clarity.

Still there’s always options to get rid of those wrinkles and photo shop does wonders….

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