“Come on! You’re not in the 90s, man!”
With a loud nagging voice, that was the end part of my dream this morning. :)
Funny how old memories came back when we least expected them. Surreal, if you ask me.
Perhaps, the marking point began yesterday when I unearthed an old T-shirt, faded with age, with patterned holes I did know existed. I never recalled placing it in the rags box, its sentimental value was worth more than its future use.
I opened the closet, checking if there were still similar types of clothing I had forgotten I owned. A weird idea came over me that I should wear them just for old time’s sake, reminiscing those times I was still able to jump and kick with utter joy and abandon.
Well, my blue denim pants was still there, the knees’ sections were partially slit, again with holes that I specifically recalled my own doing. With the shirt, the get-up was complete.
Alas! I did not factor in time, those years that added flesh to my former slimmer physique, that at present was a stark reminder I did age physically. Mentally and emotionally were another matter altogether. :D
As I tried my tiresome best to fit in in the clothing that would not stretch to its limits, I can’t help but laugh at myself for doing those things I did during my ‘grunge’ phase. I was so different then that no one would probably believe I was transformed into a boring soul today. :D
Young people do a lot of wild escapades that as we grew older we viewed as risky. But back then, when we were at the same age, we viewed old peoples’ shaking heads as biased to safe conduct.
I could partially conclude that generations’ gaps will not be bridged. Unless of course we as old timers accompany young ones to a rock concert, banging our heads like they do, shrieking like banshees without inhibitions. What a sight that could be!
Yeah, right! Wake up, man! :D