Hello, world! One week has passed and I am now eight and twenty years old. Another notch in my belt. I look forward to what life has to surprise me with around the bend (insert Squidward-esque laugh here).
Hello, world! One week has passed and here I am, battered, bruised, and scar-filled. I laugh and it hurts my side. I could cry but my tear ducts have dried. So, this is how it is to live life… Battered, hurt, broken. Yet getting up again at the sound of another bell, ready for another bout of survival.
Hello, world! One week has passed and here I go, yammering, directionless still. Unsatisfied, still searching for the perfect reason to keep doing what I do. I am not tired, I must say for the record. It’s just that, to coin a phrase, this is not me…
Hello, world! One week has passed but what lurks in yonder corner? I haven’t had a good deal in a very long time. I hope it comes soon. I didn’t order a Lamborghini for just a walk in the park. And the Lamb is still in layaway.
Hello, world? One week has passed and here I am… still in front of a PC, clacking away for dear sanity.
Hello…? Are you there? One week has passed and… still, I cannot feel my heart beating. Twenty-eight summers, or monsoons, to be geopolitically correct. What have I done with life? Or must the sad adage hold that life would only begin at forty? Sagging, forty, happy?
Hey, world, it’s me. Twenty-something with a septuagenarian mentality. I need a change of dentures. And my adult diaper has sprung a leak. Still… gotta say this for the record: Paparapapap… am loving it!
…and to all those who must add another annum this October… happy birthday, y’all. Doesn’t matter if you’re growing old or regressing to second childhood. Coffee’s on the house today.