Everything's getting older

It should have been a brilliant summer morning, but it's raining. Been like that for days now, you should be used to it, but no. Not yet.

You wake up already tired. In the bathroom mirror you stare at while shaving, you can see what you became. The chances you missed, the opportunities you wasted, the wounds you
got and the ones you gave, all of them draw little lines on your forehead, around your eyes, your cheeks, your mouth... Laughing wrinkles they call them. Bah. They just get deeper every day, nothing you can do.

Thinking about it, that's probably for the best. They compose a map, a map of where you've been, where you are and likely where you're heading.

Take that scar for example, that never healed nicely from that snowball fight six years ago. Or was it from a bar fight ten years ago ? And does it matter anyway ? And this zit you tried to pop at back in the days, almost a birth mark now, and the booze isn't soothing. You're not helping yourself. Listen to them. We're here for you, keeping you on your toes, they scream, in their silent but obvious way.

But you have better things to do.

Oh yes, so much more to do and chat about. We'll talk about that later, shall we ?