Strangers, Again

sands-of-time

If I saw you

If I met you

With so many years passed

Strangers

Like the first time

Or like time had stood still?

Unknown credit for image

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On Aging

Homer Simpson

Old photographs reveal how years have gone by. Each wrinkle and ridge tells a story but what the story means is still hidden from me.

The irony of aging is I currently am in the best shape of my life. Perhaps you can’t teach an old dog new tricks but with age comes experience and wisdom and new perspective. Tools and gifts that were always there remained hidden in younger years and uncovered with proper discipline. Younger years allow for deviation and idle hands but with age comes less margin for error.

I should have been further right? The notches on my belt remain a few less than the mean. There’s been a lot of road covered yet so much remains. Shouldn’t I have an education, a good job, a wife, and kids? These are the things you tell me make me successful in the end.

Looking back, I’m left to wonder what I’ve done. I’ve accomplished a lot but with each accomplishment it seems things remain. As the years progress, each one seems to have gone by quicker than the previous and the length of the seasons dwindle as they change. The days turn into night with a quicker frequency than I remember as child. Those endless summer days now end, with me weary and tired ready for bed. The seasons change and each day seems a clone of the next. It has been so long since I was in school that the emergence and disappearance of children waiting for the bus remind me that fall and summer are just around the corner. To be that age, seems to have been light years away.

Friends and family I knew as children always remained locked at that age in my mind. Years of separation and the revelation that they have aged just as me catch me in surprise. The mind plays such subtle tricks on us yet we know better. Why we always see ourselves as young remains a mystery to me. The idea that we are now the same age as our parents once were or a family friend, yet we remain so much younger in reliving the memory from deep inside.

Our bodies clearly age. Do our minds age or do we become locked in a place in our own time?

Image found in the public domain of the internet.

Slave to the Grind

time

Slavery is alive and well,

Find yourself in your own personal hell,

Drugs and alcohol,

Money and trade,

Each one an addition,

To something we are a slave,

We’ll burn the midnight oil,

To chase away the pain,

Memories to be forgotten,

Just one hit makes it go away,

Or with riches in our eyes,

Looking for something to gain,

We want and we must,

Foolishly thinking happiness is in lust,

We try and try,

Just to make it another day,

The sands of time now eroded,

Regretting it is too late,

We lived our life away.

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