This post started rather dark but I don’t want it to sound too emo, especially because it’s not supposed to sound like that.
This post is about getting older or rather about noticing that you’re getting older. Also it’s supposed to be uplifting, so don’t take it too serious. Thanks. Enjoy. :)
For quite some time I felt like I’m not going anywhere despite recent accomplishments. I got my A-Levels on my 19th birthday, I moved out shortly after that and now it’s my second year at Uni already. I’m happy in my current relationship. I’ve got plenty of friends both online and offline, I’ve got this blog and my stream and it’s a lot of fun to do both.
But time’s kind of running it out and years feel like months, months like weeks, weeks like days and I can still remember last Saturday as if it was yesterday but well, it’s already another week gone and finished without anything really having happened. I don’t feel like I’m getting older. I don’t feel like an adult. I feel like I’m still a 19-year-old waiter in a small town with four churches and way too many white people. I feel like I’m still that young lad who’s telling this older guest on her 80th birthday that he thought she’s only 60 – for the tip of course. I still feel like video-games are great past-time-activity and that I have way too much time to get through my backlog and through my big pile of books but…
I’m getting older. Day by day, year by year, and eventually I’ll be too old for that kind of stuff – or rather I won’t have time for video-games. In the future, I’ll get married and have a family, I’ll have way too much to do with my work and kids and whatever else I’ve got to do as an adult. I won’t be able to play games as much and I won’t be able to go for a drink that much. I’ll be getting older and older and before I’ll notice, I’ll die and people will forget me or something. I don’t know.
What I’m getting at, is the fact that 2019 didn’t really happen and that it’s 2020 already. I’m getting at the fact that it’s already 2020 but I’m still accidentally writing 2018. I’m getting at the fact that years feel like months, that months feel like weeks, that weeks feel like days and that days are over before they really start.
I’ve noticed grey hairs in places that I don’t want them to be in. I’ve shaved my beard because of me looking like 28 when it’s fully grown while I look like I’m 18 or something when I shave it off. I notice that I’ll get drunk from just half a beer while I’ll be hangover on the next day from less. I’ll notice that my headache’s been killing me for close to a year now and I still couldn’t get an appointment for that brain scan that that doc told me to get. And now I can’t to begin, due to Covid-19.
Time’s kind of being running it out and hence, memento mori.
Always remember that you’re mortal. Remember that you’ll die. Remember that someday worms will crawl through your skin and bones and remember that someday nobody will remember you. And alas, try to make the best out of your short life and enjoy it to the fullest.
I hope that wasn’t too depressing. It really isn’t supposed to be like that. I just kind of felt like being dramatic and writing something like that. Don’t take this post too serious. “Carpe Diem” is the same thing as “Memento Mori” but for hipsters.