I turned forty this year and I’m really beginning to look and feel it.
Remember when you were a kid and the school-year would end and it would seem like this awesome moment where September wasn't until the end of time? The school year seemed like forever. It was as if time stood still. The person you saw one day would be different three months later and you would change and things would change and life would change and you'd be in touch with it every day. Today you're worried about this, tomorrow you're worried about that, the next day this person doesn't like you, the next day he (or she) does.
Things aren't like that any more. I do things and time moves under me.
Now I see people I haven't seen in years and sure, maybe they're different, but I can't tell because I hardly ever see them. I haven't been in contact with anyone or anything regularly enough to feel the friction of time sliding through my hands.
Friends have grown up and gone away. Sometimes I wonder if I am lamenting the passing of my youth, or if I am really just depressed.
