Getting Old

Getting old is like ending up at a garden party on a freshly cut lawn, the smell of damp grass and earth, a few mosquitoes, a little shade and bright light. As the body becomes weak, the mind could be porous, open, more holes in the tissue of lies, after losing illusions and dropping expectation.

Accept and experience the pain, without sinking into dullness. There’s nothing to prove, no prize. You score death.

Graduation ceremony is the funeral. There’s nothing to obtain, nobody to impress. Might as well keep going. Cheer up. Don’t sink into self-pity. Don't be afraid. Deal with whatever is happening. Forget about going somewhere or doing something. There’s no progress. The pilgrim gave up. He went into a hotel, ordered something to drink and talked and listened to whoever was there.

My mind gets working overtime. Find a sheet of paper. Make some pictures. Write a story. Pretend to be a Sasquatch, all hairy, and with giant feet.

A man on a side street spoke in the shadows into a cell phone: “The relationship is over. We’re really sorry about the threats. Let’s forget the past. Let’s just call it quits. The relationship is over.”

Vulture Nest Dweller says death is a scary experience. You thought life was scary; wait until you encounter death.

Ok, maybe this is a fancy way of saying, I got laid off. My contract will end June 30 and then it's unemployment. The worst thing about getting laid off was the bullshit story the organization invented as a reason for termination.