Sometimes I am okay with getting older. Most of the time, I am not. I like to pretend that the years I have gained don’t exist. I also do this with pounds. In my thoughts of thoughts, I am 22 years old and I weight 135 lbs. In real life, add 10 to the first number. Then add 10 to the latter. And maybe a few more.
No, I’m not immature. Childish? Probably, but I know several mature and responsible children that I would bet my taxes on. I have been called “childish” by two men and I was insulted, twice, but I am not insulted anymore. I am a child, a really smart, tall and fully developed, child. I have also been called “a young soul” by more than three people. After three, I stop counting. Whether it’s Oreo cookies or sexual partners, nothing is important after it exceeds three. By my logic, which is the only logic that matters to me, I am three and whatever years old. Wow. I have my whole future ahead of me. Those big dreams that I thought I squandered, now seem dangerously within my grasp. My first big dream was to be a mermaid. Then I wanted to be a marine biologist. My third dream was to live on a houseboat and sail the mighty sea until it ultimately swallows me alive and I perish inside its salty belly. My forth, fifth and sixth dream? Not important.
I have come to realize, in my short years that matter, that it is an honor to be called an “old soul.” But It is not a compliment to be called “a young soul.” This is based on the belief that with age comes wisdom. I believe that with some age, comes some wisdom. After a certain point, people begin to lose their minds along with all that acquired knowledge. I bet the wisest are between the ages of 40-60. “Old soul” folks say that they have lived several lives and are hundreds of years old, or something ridiculously impossible of that nature. My grandma is almost 100 years old. She was brilliant between the ages of 40-60. She is no longer that. At all. And it is definitely not cool. So my point is…
Young souls are better than old ones….Ha, Nana nana na!