don’t kid yourself, 50s are cool AF. i am working this decade like no other. middle age is weak, neither young nor old. old is the new young. kids grown, partnerless, free to go wherever i choose. i have no money and zero safety net, but i have social capital up the wazoo from being an activist/artist/teacher over decades. yes, my skin is turning into crepe paper, my teeth are unfixable, and i strain my eyes to read, but these are seriously small costs for the liberation from having to be attractive and amiable and “responsible.” fuck that. i live in community, i go out dancing, my best friends are in their 20s and 30s. i shake my ass like no one is watching, because no one is, thank god. when it’s time to die, i will die. since i don’t have money or property, it will not be a long drawn-out process. my books and random objects will be distributed. maybe i have 20 more years on the planet. ima make the most of it.