HEY OLD MAN

Hey old man, we are in the same space right now but our appearance is time-dependent. You look tired even in the midst of celebration, your smile is wrinkled just like your laugh, and the highlight of your day is reminiscing events in your faulty archive. Nostalgia is your best friend and lover but its killing you slowly and at this point, death is like a crush you are just afraid to talk to. You start heading home at the 60th minute of the game to see it off at home just because the chants can be too loud sometimes. It’s a Champions League match so you don’t want to miss the biggest event in your boring life in weeks, you bumped into a young guy and he was so polite even though you clearly was distracted by the loud chants but you get the pity favors these days, it’s just the way it is when you are the oldest everywhere you go. You smile then drove away. He stood there for a minute wondering if you are okay.

You get home only to discover your team lost by conceding two late goals, then you eat your dinner in annoyance yelling “I don’t care about stupid Arsenal!” you are trying to quell the pain because you know you have nobody to take it off your mind, so you go to your best friend, nostalgia, then you wonder what it will be like to be young as the guy you bumped into an hour ago, you start to wonder what it will be like to be born again with amazing technologies on display, been able to partake in it, being able to fall in love again, being able to stay up all night doing stupid things. Then you drift back into reality and wonder if your death will be of any significance, Tari doesn’t like spending time with his old man although you really can’t complain because his money keeps your stomach happy. Maybe pushing him hard to tougher up broke the fragile relationship and you always blamed Maeve for being too easy on him. You wonder if you will get to really see Maeve again when you die because let’s face it, there is really no testimony about the afterlife to bank on. Then you blame yourself for forgetting about young Siobhan that drowned at the beach and how Maeve consoled you for months because she knew Siobhan was your favorite. You continue to hate yourself for letting her memory go then you remember your archive is faulty, and how time is a man-made construct and humans are fragile machines in the context of it. Suddenly death becomes approachable and you start eulogizing it because you will get to be with Maeve and Siobhan again. At least Tari will have one less bill to worry about when you’re gone.

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