Just the other day I got thinking about ageing, mostly from a very superficial prospective; getting old, wrinkles appearing on your face, the body is not what it used to be, you are not the novel thing anymore, you become akin to an old radio that is being thrown in a closet to make space for the brand-new TV. Sure, some people manage to have fulfilling lives and by the time they have to be thrown in the closet, they'll have already enriched their lives enough to be content with it, or maybe their closet will be a new, whole, and fulfilling experience that is worth living, perhaps along with the loved ones that they've collected through life. But that's not the type of life I feel I'm destined to, even as the brand new thing I was the bottom of the barrel; to be frank, it feels as if I've been tossed in the closet at birth
Forgot where I was going with this