Or, what a surprise it has been And how odd, Somehow I was not expeting to live so long and experience so much and/or to want so much more again and again.
Today I am having one agan the strange desire to do what I call 'shooting myself' in he foot': that is, to get rid of everything except the clothes on my back and of course beaause it is an essential part of me, my phone, and perhaps its perpherals, becauset os I am beome cyborg in my old age, and to off on some sort of great adventure, preferably on foot. But of course I would probably be quite exhausted by the time I had gone six or seven miles, And there would almost certanl be no pace to pitch my tent. Another thing I would need, a nice water=proof extension of my tired old hide.
So here I am, sitting in a coffee shop doing my best imigation of being a cool and colourful old fart because there are fewer and fewer roles left for me to play. And of course the truth is that it is time for me to stop playing roles, but the habit has become so ingrained that to 'be myself' to make the sort of late-life adjustments and acceptans that wise old farts like Carl Jung say one should do feels like just another role.
One role that I have long enjoued is that of being some sort of rebel. but stting here in what is putably the ccoolist coffee shop at the edge of nowhere, the most rebellious thing I am doing is to hae a Samsung phone and laptop while everyone else has gotten back to the garden, carefully curated by the guardina angels of Cupertino.
Fortunately, the urge to shoot myself in the foot doesn't last long. I ahve like just about everyone else experiencing Future Shock, have a very short attention span. So I quickly reajust to the small rythm of ejoying the passing of time.Which is a very good thing, sinc somehow times keeps on passing, ready or not.
