It's not much as getting older, but more of, “Where did the year go?” — or in my case sometimes, “Where did the years go?”
Growing old hits you on the face like that tiny bug that smudges your whole vehicle windshield as you drive on the highway to Vegas with $40 in your pocket (don't ask).
I would've written a lovely poem, but it's quite difficult to remain coherent and yet be able to type at least 60 words per minute (go Mavis Beacon!)
Thinking about it, time is just linear at this moment. The past has been treaded upon, so any attempts to reach it would be futile. While everyone knows you can't dive into the future either. Huh?
Crap. I wish I had better things to write about.
Cheers anyway and Happy Birthday to me.
