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ARTS AND CULTURE

Middle age suits me just fine

  • 22 July 2015

Ageing. Looks fading. Tight faded denim jeans that have shrunk in the wash no longer the look. Just boring old tents and sacks, which is all that fits me. No longer able to wear the nice clothes that I could once wear in my early twenties but still cannot bear to throw them out.

Feeling old and ravaged way past the forty mark. Also well past my prime. Never forever young. No longer being mistaken for a pretty young thing and being put out to bloom for the whole world to see.

Out of the running for even a fling with the most non eligible of bachelors no matter how hard I try to change and defy mother nature.

I have seriously considered such quick fixes and remedies as liposuction, facelifts and Botox which often don’t work and I know really are in many ways old wives tales. However no man now chases my tail. In many ways my looks seem to pale in insignificance.

Instead I often feel like a walking time bomb rather than a young wonder or child prodigy always looking straight ahead and taking everything life has to offer instead of having to answer to a chief half my age in the workplace. However, sadly I still want to cry out aloud like a baby at my wrinkled fate and sorry state no longer being able to kid myself that I still have the same high metabolism that I did when I was a kid.

For me, life has indeed been served on a plate and looks rather more like a done dinner than a fresh salad. I have been left in such a terrible and poor state that even the most easy to please of construction workers no longer notices me as I go down the street. However I still try all the time to prove myself and my existence and tell myself that it is what is inside that counts.

I do though often go through life looking down instead of up ashamed of my soaring weight and other multiple signs of old age from scars, stretch marks, and wrinkles not to mention the rough mounds and bumps which I can no longer lovingly call love handles. The only youthful thing left behind are pimples. These harsh maladies although clearly visible still make me feel totally invisible to the point where I want to scream and tear all my grey

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