For a very long time, like any kid I yearned to grow old and be finally considered an adult, but when I reached my 20’s my body and face were still stuck in puberty, I would always get people asking how old I am and when I tell them they would want me to prove it by showing my ID, it was the same case when I would go clubbing. This always bothered me and made me feel disrespected somehow.
I always let it be known that I’m old, I wanted that fact to be acknowledged up until recently, I happened to ‘make nice’ with a slightly older woman and afterwards she called me a ‘Ben 10’, which is a term that is used nowadays for younger men that date or ‘make nice’ with older women. Strangely enough being called a Ben 10 didn’t bother me as much. And then it hit me, age has finally caught up with me, I have reached a point whereby I would give anything to be called a 17 year old, even though a few years ago that would have come across as an insult.
Next year I’m turning 25, that’s a half of 50.
All of this got me thinking, age is God’s cruel joke on the human race, one day you are full of life and youth, the next you’ve got a bad hip, poor eye sight and no bowel control.
The sad part is there isn’t anything one can do to stop time, I can only watch in despair as my hairline recedes to the back of my head. We can only look back to the days when we were young and babyfaced.
Now the Ben 10 that I was will forever be immortalised in photographs as the current me slowly succumbs to age.
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