Tag Archives: age

Life is a one-liner.

No it’s not!

Well it’s not now. Why’d you have to ruin my one-liner? I had a perfectly fine one-liner until you came in with your stupid line. It’s not like we can just take it back. We’re stuck with it.

Well you don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t exist. Without that second line you would have never been able to make that third line. Maybe we ARE stuck in this together, but it wouldn’t kill you to see the good in it.

…Oh, what a mess. look at all these lines. What are we going to do?

We’re going to deal with it.

Can’t we quit without saving, or ctrl+alt+del?

Could you be able to sleep at night?

No… probably not.

I could… I’m scared.

If it’s really what you want then, then I’ll do whatever makes it easier for you. I don’t get much sleep anyways.

I’m going to miss you.

You don’t have to.

I want to.

Ready?

Yeah…

–END TRANSMISSION–

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Why is it that I see something happening, like, I see where that path is heading, yet I do nothing to change it.

I don’t know… like, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.

Like, I’ll be doing something, let’s just say I’m talking to the girl of my dreams–

Hypothetically?

…Sure, yeah.

Really?

Okay, no. But I’m talking to her, and then a moment arises for me to make a joke that would compliment her and make her laugh and blush, but I don’t, because I’m shy. Instead I just smile and look down.

Sounds like you’re just shy.

But I know exactly what I want, and how to get it, but for some reason I don’t go for it. Something’s holding me. It’s like I’m detached from myself where the young, dumb version of me is making all the mistakes, and the older, wiser version of me just watches and says “I told you so.” It’s like the wise version of me is always gone when I’m caught up in a crucial moment. Why can’t he just step in and make me make the right decisions?

…Oh.

What?

I think that’s what fate is.

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Lonely Pencil Sharpener

Pencil sharpeners are whores. And you’re the pimp. We all know this. Even since a young age we would have dozens of pencils and only one pencil sharpener. You stick in pencil after pencil, red, blue, orange, pink, number 2, hard lead, soft lead — some don’t quite fit, but you cram them in anyways — it doesn’t matter to you. All that matters is the pencils keep getting sharpened until they go out into the rough world of paper, get dull again, and need to come back. Pencils come and go, but you use that same poor sharpener until it too, dulls and can no longer function, and you get a new one. It has seen so many pencils, but can’t seem to remember any of them. It’s all such a blur. This lonely pencil just wants one connection that will last, that’s all it asks. It just wants to feel special. In a perfect world you would have one pencil sharpener for every pencil you use, but this isn’t a perfect world. You line up the next pencil sharpener and make sure it is tight and firmly mounted on the wall. You add a drop of oil to prevent squeaking, turn a blind eye, and start lining up pencils again.

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Suitcase

 

A man decided to travel the world. Wherever he went that he hadn’t been before he had to constantly ask questions about where to go, what to eat, and what to do. He carried the suitcase with him on every trip, and as a souvenir he collected a sticker from each new place — but he didn’t stick them anywhere. He kept his suitcase clean and free of markings. One day he put all of his collected stickers on at once, and then people started asking him questions about where to go, what to eat, and what to do, so he started giving advice, even though he had never been there before.

You don’t need to have experience to know how to do something. Sometimes you just need someone to ask you a question.

 

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“When you’re young, you forget that every old person used to be young; but when you get old, you somehow remember.”

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Age

What is age, but a number? Just something someone tells you to keep track of? If nobody told you your age, you’d have no idea how old you are. Age is hearsay. Age is a number, not an excuse, in just the same way that “I’m busy” is a valid excuse for being lazy. Age is not a competition. Aging is like managing your weight while on vacation; some do it better than others. Some obsess about it, some forget about it, and some don’t notice it until there’s no going back. Age is a number that can only be counted up, not counted down. You can act your age, or act someone else’s age. Age is a state of mind. Age is a reason to celebrate. Age is a reason to never wait. Age is something we share, can relate, and learn to live with day by day.

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Tracer

I was driving on a street with stop lights behind a commercial tanker truck with a license plate from Lima, Ohio, which was strange curious enough on its own, but it couldn’t distract me from the steady stream of water leaking from the bottom of the truck. Stopped at a light I wondered how long it would take before the tank bleeds out; and then how long before anyone notices. The truck accelerated and the trickling stream chased it, dissipating into a mist, and in the afternoon sun, tracing the truck’s path with a rainbow.

 

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Head Start

As a kid, when you see people you know get married you don’t like it because you have to dress up and sit in a church and watch them stand up there for a long time. As a teen you find it more romantic and you’re happy for them and you enjoy the festivities. As a young adult you find it strange that your friends are getting married and having kids when you’re still just watching from the audience and saying “isn’t that nice.” You start to feel a sense of love, a sense of loss, a sense of urgency. You notice you’re not young anymore, and then you talk to someone who is even older than you and in the same position. They talk like they are supposed to catch the bouquet because they are older, and you still have time because you’re just a baby at twenty-something. You believe them for a second, and then you remember it’s not a race… but getting a head start is never a bad idea.

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I arrived at the platform the trains will all pass,

and beside me a man sat there frozen in time.

With a nod and a sigh the old man surmised,

“I’m afraid that this life will be just like the last.”

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