age

Monday, May 19, 2008 T: 16 42

I’m listening to Caritas, Share the love. I found it when I went through my things earlier in the morning. I think I have bought the cd when I was in sec 3. I was 15 then. Sometimes, I really need reminders that I have lived for 2 decades. Somehow, I still have not get used to the fact that my age begins with a 2 instead of a 1. But I think my body continues to assure me time and time again. My knees begin creaking, my stomach not often agreeing with the food I eat, my sight and perhaps even hearing gradually failing me. Perhaps it’s not really that obvious now, but I can’t really imagine what it’ll be like in another 50 years’ time. I have no idea what I’ll be doing then, no clue to guessing what my future will be like. I’ll probably be condemned to the wheelchair, maybe even the bed. I’ll be cursed by every damn passenger when I made my way up the bus. Worse, I’ll be losing my memories. In the past, I thought life is all about moving on. To hell with the past, and history can go rot for all I care. But how do you move on when you don’t know who you are?

When I walked to the bus-stop today, I passed an old man crushing cans with his feet. Each lifting up for his master foot seems to sap away half his life. I felt that certain pity welling deep within me. I wonder if I’ll end up like that too.

Has life any meaning? I often wonder about those people who in the olden days who can’t come to terms about their inevitable deaths. They strive to seek immortality, even killing to do so. Do they want to live because they fear death, or because life is that enjoyable?