Growing older has never been an easy phenomenon though it has been long and ardently awaited, much bragged about, and celebrated. Hadn’t it been corrupted, it should get due attention as teenage does.
Karma becomes more complicated with aging than it was ever. The World and it’s treasures – that were handful of our desires and joys in childhood, our ambitions to discover in prepubescence, and rebellion character in adolescent – gets to be infinite; and we want it all in vain that we stretch our hands to every direction, but we catch almost nothing. Our guts as a young to catch the fire gets down to inability to catch even the wind.
We know many people and many topics roughly, we socialize with many souls, but we feel that we have lost the grace; and yet, deep down, we want to selectively filter our circles… and we even are not close to what we want to know, and the kind of life we want to have. In fact, we know so much, but we ruin it all seeing what is not there. It is a different kind of complex and/or curse that we get pissed of against any kind of thing that reminds the fact that we are aging.
We try, we count our failures. We get prepared too much, we see our sweats. We want to laugh, we see the moments that we’ve wept. We want to shine, we stare at our wrinkles. We wish to keep our hair in style, but we see it balder and grayer. At times, we even laugh looking into the cosmetics we have bought. But when it comes to publicity, we change it all upside down and want to magnify the goods in us – that hasn’t been covered in the first place – at the cost of silencing youth. There will come fight within ourselves, and between emerging souls.
We, optionlessly and as a good virtue, become very specific to our activities, interests, and involvements, while we know many in general. And yet, at the eve of our adulthood and while on it, we find it hard to goodbye our youthhood. We rather live swinging between nostalgia and proving right that we are fine with the status quo.
We used to enjoy the moments… but as getting older, we preach much than we live; we speak more than we do; we talk more than we listen; we recall way less memories than we lived. We want to bury the young souls in the skin of our memories. We want to sing and let others about what was, than urging to fight for what is.
Regret couldn’t leave us alone; nor does ego. Time flies like were never before. Life becomes in a fashion of coffee and bear, and with bittersweet memories. Whatsoever, we die while explaining and proving ourselves right.
We can’t help it, with aging, life changes so fast, and memories fade away one by one. More powerful and wonderful minds are taking over our places. Time slip away things that we valued most, and our strength.
People become scared of being attacked personally; thus, they think they can skip from it by doing it on others. People start hating being judged, but they can’t stop hiding them selves in judgementalness. Fraternity and racism are most talked about topics, but few happen to be racist.