Old

A couple of days ago as I was on my way to work, I noticed a couple of JC students reading up on their lecture notes, perhaps preparing for a test later on in the day. But that’s besides the main point. Seeing them in their youth made me realize that I ain’t young anymore; in their eyes, I’m already from a different generation. Of course, I’m almost a decade older, so that view isn’t all that invalid.

Time and tide waits for no man. So while I’m fortunate that age doesn’t show up quickly, age isn’t just a reflection of what’s on the outside. Even though I’m still as physically competent, recovering is not as instantaneous as before. Now, muscle aches and creaky bones just seem to be part and parcel of life that comes with age.

Very often though, I think we tend to overlook how much we’ve aged because we mostly hang around people of our own age. It’s only when we interact with the younger generation that we realize the years bygone. And I’ve always thought only girls would be concerned with growing older, but as I myself slowly approach the big 3-0, I sometimes secretly wish for time to come to a stop.

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