Moving On with the Time

Life was so much less complicated when we were children. We thought things would stay the same, or harboured dreams of a future version of the todays we loved so much. Friends would stay friends. Everyone would land their dream job. Things seemed almost managable then.
After a hot shower early in the morning I found myself swept in time's whirlpool. It was no longer our dreams that controlled our eventual destinies. It felt like we were just thrown headlong into what would be the rest of our lives. I find myself older, but not much wiser.
One of the more prominent landmarks is the coming of age of those younger than me. There used to be a time when I didn't have to bother with their opinions. They were kids who had no clue what we older people went through. They were concerned with trivial matters and seem so short-sighted at times. Yet today I realise that it is no longer so. These children whose lives once revolved around the yoga Barbie and Michaelangelo (the turtle, not the artist) have grown up, and their voiced thoughts are worth one's ear.
I still carry around the misconception that those born in the eighties are but babes. I guess I'm the old fogey stuck in black and white who hasn't yet come to grips with the realities that surround me. Time has past and I am still sitting, waiting for the bus to arrive. It has come and gone.
I pick up my feet and walk. I won't be left behind.

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