I get better with age, like a fine wine… although I don’t even like wine.

A personal rant in response to The Daily Post writing prompt, Young At Heart.

Age is nothing but a number, that is what I have been saying since I was thirteen. Seriously though, what other purpose does an age serve if not as a number to mark how old you have been living on this earth? Sure, it serves other purposes like marking whether or not one is eligible to vote, to drive, to marry and/or to drink alcoholic beverages; other than that it really serves no other purposes.

Compared to both my parents and my other living relatives of my parents’ generation, I am definitely very young but I can assure you that even at the age 27, I don’t feel 27 at all (although I don’t even know how a 27 year olds should feel). The thing about ageing is the responsibilities that comes with it, and these so called ‘responsibilities’ are bestowed upon you by society, such as when you should get a job, get a promotion, got married, have kids, and yadda yadda. It is never in my agenda to be told what to do and when to do it, especially when I didn’t asked for it. Other than that, I’m pretty cool with getting older.

The best way to enjoy getting older is not to think about it. There’s absolutely nothing you can do to change your past and there’s little thing you can do for your future if you messed up your present, so just live in the present and enjoy what you have, stop fretting about what you’ve lost and what you have yet to have. I know it is easier said than done, but then again, you’ll never know until you tried it, right? Okay, what did I have for breakfast this morning? Why am I sprouting these age old wisdom? I would never be caught alive saying those things, but then again I did just said those things, right? Okay, I didn’t say it, I typed it, but whatever. I guess, life happens, and you change here and there and that’s just the 27 year old me. Can’t wait to see what my 28 year old self is up to next year. Until then!


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