I was thinking about it. My grandma is the only one I’ve watched age rapidly in front of my eyes. It’s funny how when I was younger and tinier she was bright and pudgy and cheerful, and my beacon of light and life and love. As I grew older she grew older, more frail, less mentally aware and capable. It was a gradual regression – physically and mentally – but I only realized how much she had changed when she had a stroke and was lying, somewhat sunken on a hospital bed. While I try to be what she was to me – a beacon of light, life, love; I don’t think she’s mentally capable to realize anymore that I try. We try.
I think it’s slightly cruel how time robs you of your youth mercilessly. It’s a daily reminder that our days are numbered. For some, even more so. It’s a daily reminder that before I leave as a whimper, I want to live a meaningful life, I want to make the world a better place, I don’t want to be walled in and anchored.
But again, that’s another debate for another day.
“In my next life I want to live my life backwards. You start out dead and get that out of the way. Then you wake up in an old people’s home feeling better every day. You get kicked out for being too healthy, go collect your pension, and then when you start work, you get a gold watch and a party on your first day. You work for 40 years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You party, drink alcohol, and are generally promiscuous, then you are ready for high school. You then go to primary school, you become a kid, you play. You have no responsibilities, you become a baby until you are born. And then you spend your last 9 months floating in luxurious spa-like conditions with central heating and room service on tap, larger quarters every day and then Voila! You finish off as an orgasm!”
― Woody Allen
I find it strange how some people – and we’re not just talking about young people here – are glued onto their smartphones. We’ve rapidly skipped past pagers, phones with pixelated games and polyphonic ringtones, and arrived at an age of phones that can enable us to practically do anything. Some people look to the tiny screens for whatever semblance they can get of human contact, the irony being that they are at that moment surrounded by dozens. Some scroll through “feeds”, consuming nuggets of information friends (or strangers they’d like to think are friends) share. Others are so desperate that they repeatedly refresh their instagram feeds, or initiate conversations on otherwise idle whatsapp chats. I wonder if people are becoming increasingly socially inept because they interact too much with their fingers (and I mean by typing).
In one of those quarter-life crisis modes again, wonder if I’ll ever grow out of it.
It annoys me so much that I haven’t found my rhythm in life.