I see old people slowly walk by on the street. They always have this smug little smile that cuts straight through the vertical wrinkles formed on their faces by decades of emotions. It is a very bittersweet, and often used expression. From one perspective, they seem to be enjoying their old age. Then, from the other, more obvious perspective, you see they are just attempting to fool themselves. They constantly think that they lived good lives with minimal regrets, and maybe there really is a heaven. We know however, for the most part, elderly folk are wise, especially when dealing with the same thoughts that have been plaguing their heads for years and years. Deep down, they know that they are going to die, like their parents and their parents. Very, very soon.
I keep telling myself that I can't wind up like that, I wont let myself end up like them.
I've been down lately, nothing new. But for the past week and a half, I have been telling myself the same sentence, over and over in my head like a broken record: "Each of your let downs is a personal failure of something or someone you once invested hope/time/energy into." Failing yourself is scary, but life isn't worth living without risk. So I'll keep investing my hope, time, and energy into anything just to feel alive, like the rest of you lost souls. Into the inevitably doomed.
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