I am officially thirty-two years young. Okay, you win. Old.
Old enough that my age is no longer in the calendar, just like that famous phrase in Filipino, "wala na sa kalendaryo". Old enough to sometimes feel the aches of an aging body, or the immediate effects (otherwise known as the bulging batok) of eating too much chicharong bulaklak or my all-time favorite papaitan. Old enough to prioritize getting enough sleep at night over hanging out with friends just for the heck of it.
Old enough to realize, and I hope not too late, to take care of myself because I got a beautiful wife and an adorable little boy to also take care of. To do my best to outlive them because I wouldn't want to miss them growing up and growing old.
I'm sure we've encountered the term "turn back the clock", but we all know Father Time spares no one. In my case, I'd sure love to say "turn back the calendar", but it will be a futile attempt just the same. It's best to accept the fact and move on. We're not getting younger at any point in our lives, unless we're Benjamin Button. But we can be wiser and accomplish more moving forward.
I hereby acknowledge that I'm old according to calendar standards. Though I feel fine, I feel light, my eyes see clearly, my other senses work with no issues, my latest blood chemistry results were okay... these signs indicate I'm still young. My hairline, however, proves otherwise. Good thing my wife finds me sexier than I've ever been. Must be the beard.
I remember one night when I was twelve years old, I prayed to God to give me a hundred more years to live. By rough estimate, I'm only 30% of the way, IF the good Lord grants my request. True story, by the way.
To God, to my family, loved ones, and all of you my friends, THANK YOU. Life is more worthwhile with you.
I am nothing on my own. TO INFINITY AND BEYOND!
Rush of Blood to the Head
We all have something to say. If I get the rush and find a keyboard, I blog mine. Anything and everything under the sun. And stars.