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Red Lipstick & Green Ink [userpic]

I want to be..............

April 5th, 2007 (12:07 am)

Pale and thin and 21.

I don't remember her worrying so much.

*head in hands*

I do not really want that.
I know more,
Than she did.

Even when it is so hard,
I know more.

My face has lines, and as I pulled my helmet off tonight in front of Lovejoys...
I saw more silver in my hair than I had before....when I last checked my lipstick
in the mirrors of my Vino.

I licked my thumb and pulled those spit curls down and around.

I will wear my silver well.


Posted by: jr_red (jr_red)
Posted at: April 5th, 2007 11:59 am (UTC)
Me - Kid

i wouldn't want to be 21 again.

maybe 23.

Posted by: dabroots (dabroots)
Posted at: April 5th, 2007 12:16 pm (UTC)

It's now been thirty years since I was twenty-one.

I still feel despair over love, family connections, my future. All of it is now tempered with knowledge of love that I've had, family connections severed by death, family connections that have morphed in various ways through time, friends who have fallen away or stayed close, one male friend who has become a female friend. And there is always more future, at least another thirty years, I think.

Am going to re-post my thoughts in my journal. Not often I write this way shortly after waking.

Posted by: Coffee Shop Whore (skidspoppe)
Posted at: April 5th, 2007 04:08 pm (UTC)
Field of Chairs

I'm two years away from hitting twenty-1 for the second time. I say we just start counting over.

Posted by: sleightgirl (sleightgirl)
Posted at: April 5th, 2007 04:52 pm (UTC)

How can you be two years away when in reality you're only 16? Well, at least you can drive.

Posted by: Orin (rin_o)
Posted at: April 5th, 2007 07:51 pm (UTC)

they say ignorance is bliss, but i think it's the absence of knowing the finer things in life........

Posted by: Gregory Parks (tokenpants)
Posted at: April 7th, 2007 12:29 am (UTC)
35 cents!

I'm glad you really don't want to be 21 and pale and thin again. I have pity (which in my emotional sea is a mild form of contempt) for people who spend their time wishing they were young again. I have heard people younger than me talk about the good old days and how the best years were behind them.

Then please shoot yourself and get out of my way. Granted, I have a unique life, but I grew up with an extended family who I don't remember hearing once about how they lamented being old. The elders in my family never lied about their age. I never understand that state of mind. To me it's insulting and it's vain. I say it loud: I'm 33 and I'm proud! I work around people younger than me more often than not now. Will they be in my position when they're my age (which isn't that old, anyway?) I seriously doubt it. Then again, that's probably my brand of hubris at work there.

Silver is awesome. My older sister first went grey at this spot in front of her head just off center. It looked cool, she loved it, and she was insulted whenever anyone would presume that she colored her hair that way. She was proud to earn it, and for her, age is a badge of experience. Not everyone makes it to 30 or 40 and does so gracefully or with vim and vigor.

My grey has started to come in. I was so happy to find my first grey hair that I actually plucked it out before realizing what I did. I am slowly, yet inexorably on the way to having salt and pepper dreads, which look awesome! For this, I shall have to be patient.

Getting older is always only what we make of it. My youth wasn't bad or wasted or misspent, but I am ashamed at the lack of experience and the ignorance of my youth, and I wasn't as bad as the average youth. Heartache, government and political crap, the evil that men do: I prefer having knowledge and experience over the ignorance. I, for one, would rather be dead than ignorant.

Be proud, Ginger. Even when you reflect on things and they don't look all rosy, you are obviously a treasure to many people, and a skip in the hearts of many a guy.

Speaking of which, how was that thursday night rendez-vous at the bar . . . ?

Do I ever really add to the topics, or are these only just glorified ramblings of a passionate midwestern madman standing on a borrowed soapbox?

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