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Well, I'll be 30 this yr. It is scary, no getting away from the fact of the decaying business. However, I am not scared of death, 'cos I don't understand how anyone whose been as physically ill as I have in my life could be; like, duh, death's where the pain stops, how can that be bad or scary? I suspect anyone who hasn't had major surgery before quitting their teens will know what I'm talking about, but when one brushes up against serious illness and mortality that young, you don't half get chilled about croaking. It really can be one's only hope of release, a precious, beautiful thing. Like Foucault, I've always sort of felt that it'd be possible to hit, say, 60, decide enough's enough and enjoy a dignified and possibly even fun death. (Think Tim Leary, whose last words I believe were, "Sure, why not?" when offered more charlie. Or K, can't recall.)
On the major plus side, I am muchly in agreement with Xoc. Lots of studies find that, contray to popular opinion, one's 20's are not the best days of one's life; for many they're can be misma of worry about the future. Mine certainly were, well, quite agonising at times to be honest, which isn't to say the next ten years 'll be bliss but, well, a tiny lil' bit of experience does go a long way in a sort of 'making life generally easier' sort of way. I'm sure no one will ever be totally sorted, but I think I'm moving in the right direction, which is something. Well I think that on good days, anyway.
And yeah, happy birthdaze, yawl! |
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