Fuck. That. Shit.
I used to read news articles about people doing stuff, see their age and think, ha, look at that guy, doing shit, when he's that age.
Now I read them and think, well fuck, I'm that age and haven't done anything I really wanted to do.
Tick, tock.
Fucking, sigh.
Age has been a lingering obsession of mine since I left my teens. However old I've been is too old. At 26, I felt totally washed up. At 32, I regretted wasting time worrying about my age as a 26-year-old, because now I was convinced I really was totally washed up. At 38, I look back at my 32-year-old self and regret that he wasted time with those regrets about wasted time. Then I regret wasting my current time regretting regrets about regrets. This is pretty sophisticated regretting I'm doing. That's the sole advantage of ageing: I can now effortlessly consolidate my regrets into one manageable block of misery. Otherwise, by the age of 44, I'd need complex database software just to keep track of precisely how many things I'm regretting at once.
When you're young, anyone a decade older or more can seem like a gauche joke, tragically unaware of their own crashing irrelevance. They're either hopelessly out-of-touch (LOL! He's never heard of Lady Gaga!), embarrassingly immature (Ugh! He listens to Lady Gaga!) or hovering awkwardly in-between (Pff! He uses Lady Gaga as a catch-all reference for youth!). At the same time, you somehow believe that when - if - you ever grow to be so impossibly ancient yourself, you'll be wiser and less embarrassing. How could you not be? These people are just pathetic.
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Now I read them and think, well fuck, I'm that age and haven't done anything I really wanted to do.
Tick, tock.
Fucking, sigh.
Age has been a lingering obsession of mine since I left my teens. However old I've been is too old. At 26, I felt totally washed up. At 32, I regretted wasting time worrying about my age as a 26-year-old, because now I was convinced I really was totally washed up. At 38, I look back at my 32-year-old self and regret that he wasted time with those regrets about wasted time. Then I regret wasting my current time regretting regrets about regrets. This is pretty sophisticated regretting I'm doing. That's the sole advantage of ageing: I can now effortlessly consolidate my regrets into one manageable block of misery. Otherwise, by the age of 44, I'd need complex database software just to keep track of precisely how many things I'm regretting at once.
When you're young, anyone a decade older or more can seem like a gauche joke, tragically unaware of their own crashing irrelevance. They're either hopelessly out-of-touch (LOL! He's never heard of Lady Gaga!), embarrassingly immature (Ugh! He listens to Lady Gaga!) or hovering awkwardly in-between (Pff! He uses Lady Gaga as a catch-all reference for youth!). At the same time, you somehow believe that when - if - you ever grow to be so impossibly ancient yourself, you'll be wiser and less embarrassing. How could you not be? These people are just pathetic.
source