I really don't think I should do this. Write about how I am feeling about growing older. It's been done before, and trust me, it has been done in far more creative ways than I can muster at this point. My lower back aches often. I type with 4, 5 fingers max. I am not in a good enough position to complain about one of two things that all truly have in common. But why the fuck not. Why aren't I deemed qualified to complain? Why the hell do I see it as complaining? Is it because I am getting older and with that comes this internalized belief that unless I am looking fondly on the past as I embrace the future, I am “being negative” about growing old?
I started painting in 2012. That wasn't very long at all. Well in this age of social media and needing to be constantly visible, maybe it is quite a long time. Having been born before The Matrix, I like to believe that things need time to cultivate. That having achieved what I have achieved in 5-6 years is pretty great. I guess I do. It's just the idea that I will probably never be the youngest to do something. I have to scramble to be recognized in an under (whatever age) list. My achievements will now be met with a "well about time" as opposed to a "wow, already." I mean, most of that stuff is really unnecessary and don't add up to a fulfilled life. At the end of it, thats what it should all be for. I just need some time to process and get over it.
Just fucking get over it. You're older, not old. You're not dead, just dying. Work harder, smarter, faster, and more often. Create to have something to leave behind. Remember that though being young was fun, you wouldn't have gotten here, without the subsequent years in which you found yourself aging.
At the end of the day, I am happy. I am achieving shit and I am happy. I am not sad I guess, just hyper aware of it all. But, what does saddened me, my dog, he'll go before I do. That sucks...