“Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose” – Lyndon Johnson
If you ask me, I’ve lived long enough. No good can come from hanging around the upper limits of a human life span.
If you can’t squeeze a good experience into seventy years, you’ve most likely been too cautious. (It doesn’t make you a bad person.)
While I run in the dark each morning, without music or other distractions, the battle of good and evil rages between my ears. Unabated.
Life has been amazing so far. Everything I signed up for. I think. I laughed, I cried.
The only thing I can hope for until the doorbell rings, is more peace and less pain. I’m talking physical pain. The emotional variety I can handle.
Once you marry an adversary, you will cauterize your Cupid and can move on in solidarity. Living alone can be a dream state.
But living alone scares people. That’s because they expect their bodies to fall apart at some point and the pain and entrapment ensues. They will need a support system.
That’s what I want no of. I do not want to hang around this planet in a diminished capacity.
If I am able to live a life I want, solitary, sane and mobile, then that’s all a guy can ask for. But I have to put the work in. And work I will, with a smile on my face.
In the retirement community where I live, I am surrounded by pain, dependency, immobility and depression.
No thank you, there are sneakers for that.