No, I haven't passed another birthday yet, and when I do, I'm not going to make a big deal about it. It'd just thatI've finally discoveredmy first gray hair. I knew I couldn't stay young forever, but I actually expected to make it to 30 before I started graying. At this rate by the time I'm 30 I'll really be a silver mane. And I'm sure there's a positive correlation between age of first gray hair and one's predetermined life span.
But this discovery is important in another way. It reminds me that all the things I want to I'll never do. It tell me that it's pointless to keep trying anything because everyone else will always be better and no one is going to look up to me for what I've done. It tells me that I might as well give up on my dreams because dreams don't come true, at least not for me. Yes, truth hurts, it's painful, but all my crying isn't going to change that fact that I am nothing. Nothing will change that. The only thing that will change is how much more the other people will be.
But there is a bright side to getting old. Since I'm doomed to forget everything anyway, so why not start with the things I loved and still love? I think that's what I have to do in order not to be swallowed by despair. Why the things I love? Because those are the things that give me hope and give me ideas. Since I can't eliminate the sources of other people's happiness and success, I have to kill all that I enjoy, one step at a time. That way, if all I have left is hurt, I won't feel anything.
As I speak, I purge knowledge from my brain and the idea I was no different than the people I saw as great. Inferiority, I accept you into my arms, and with oblivion I will throw myself to the abyss.