Monday, April 17, 2006

Signs of ageing

Idle moments when I was young, I would wonder about the line between youth and age.

I know now that these thoughts were childish, there is a blurring, like the gradual loss of my distant sight.

Still, as with every journey there must be a point of no return, I suppose.

I've had a grey hair frequently enough by now, just to pull it out silently and make a silent vow with myself not to think about it.

Those moments where someone asks if I'm a student are welcomed with big smiles and eyes to heaven and secretly wishing that I had a USIT card to once again avail of the discounts.

I fear a moment where it is not respectable for me to go drinking alone - you know that fifteen minutes where you wait for a mate. Not so many girls, or I should say women, drink alone. Couple that with my ocassional effort to dress in the clobber of today, there is a danger I could be mistaken at playing at being a lamb.

The strangest thing I find, is my growing conservatism, not politically of course, but in terms of making involuntary 'tsch' noises when I see parents treating children in a fashion I deem wrong. Or anything I deem wrong actually.

Last Saturday in Habitat I saw a woman treating her coworker with utter contempt and the 'tsch' was out before I could stop it. When paying for my coffee and bun, and all the way around the shop, I muttered to my friend about how unreasonable it was, and how unfair, and how I wanted to do something about it, as she made soothing noises.

One trait I thought would be gone by now that shows no sign of moving is that of weltschmerz. If anything, as I age my world sadness grows and grows. It can be anything - in Eason's two weeks ago a young man, who was on the cusp of being a dude, made me cry.

It wasn't his fault.

He was talking and flirting in a most honest, genuine, innocent, happy way with a girl who was smiling. This boy looked beautiful to me, all young and that, but I know that he would find it hard to get a girl.

Her friend wasn't involved, and was pissed off. As the man went down the escalator, the friend grabbed the girl and left the man going away step by step from the two girls.

His face fell, so gently that you might miss the drop. The friend flirted, and showed off to her friend on the first floor.

The boy stood, unsure what he should do on the ground floor.

I was between floors, and helpless. I wanted to protect the boy, but I couldn't. I wanted to shake the friend and tell her she would get her moment some day and not to be so greedy, but I wouldn't.

So I reached the ground floor, and looked away, catching the tear before it left my eye.

about growing conservatism... I still think that it would never come, the day when I'll be the conservative one, but your words make me wonder... Anyway,one thing I'm sure of: don't want to be like my mother!
i like your blog...have just started one my self im afraid ive stolen some of your description for self!!! hope you dont mind!! its called the white stag ...on typepad...another blog site ...wanted to get to this one but wait wa a year...jesus!!

hope betsy did ok!
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