Turning mid-60s

[Zētētēs Lugh'Allein]

Relevance: #death #mistakes #ncients #oldage #old_age

In the distant past, a Clergy wrote about how he respected and acknowledged those in their senior age (a euphemism for dried up, ugly old @#*% like me who lose their train of though often, heck, lose their entire CSX of thought) deserve respect. But I am not seeing this lately. Oh, we be scalin', gettin' big, and we gots to move these old folks with their walkers aside so we can Build for Eternity. I can see from the way many of you folks write, that I probably could have diapered most of your backsides a mere 20 years ago at the most. (I don't use a walker thank you very much. I can kick higher than my head like an MMA boss man, and have taken the thyme (rosemary and parsley and sage too) to read many of the materials on here.) Maybe I will buy a ritual in TV but I dunno, is that a good idea, or will I spontaneously combust if I try it because my telomeres are shredded worse than the skin of your typical skid row bum who's just rolled awake out of his cardboard box, to make that Ka meet that Ba and make that lovely twain meet? Waiting with baited breath and Icebreakers mints for your expert young-un opinion(s). The twain has pretty much run me over anyway, choo-choo, at least according to those two lovely pillars, Everybody and They. Which I disagree with but oh well. Guess I just have to go with the manufactured consent song and dance, find my inner elegy and go with the flow and go find my rocking chair.

I am "supposed" to be past the age of redemption, self- or otherwise. I half considered having the agents returning me to the power grid, and "becom[ing] a Catholic again / the oldest altar boy in the parish / complete with surplice and cassock" in the words of Poet Laureate Billy Collins. But no I won't back down. My years, my gray hair, and my old, ugly face that drops ravens from the skies when I look up, and sends kids running for their mommies or the nearest restroom, will not stop me from continually reading the lovely materials on these sites. I have clout. I have even stayed awake long enough to do some of the God rituals, which is really hard these days since I have to take a nap every 15 minutes these days (no, not really, but again, I won't disappoint, why not whet your appetites with a wonderful stereotype narrative) - and they tell me they have my back (all of it). I will not back down until I have saved enough money to buy the Wepwawet ritual and all the others I need to rise above. I am on limited income, but I am not letting this stop me. I am out on the streets and in shelters instead of in a senior citizen air-conditioned/heated coffin otherwise known as "a place to stay," because of my conviction. Paying an absentee, private venture capital nabob, "rent," is not big on my bullet list right now. I am this convinced that these privately available rituals will "at the end of the day" get me fruits beyond my wildest current dreams. 'Scues me, Trump. Mar a Lago is, now, mine. Can't wait till I speak those words with my mouth, nose, ears, eyes and crypto flash drive lit up like a Yuletide tree. (Hey there is a reason for the season and the laser-eyes trope for crypto. Bet you never thought of the laser eyes meme in that light, open your mouth close your eyes you will get a big surprise ritual fans, huh?) Just kidding, Trump, maybe I will let you keep your humble abode. Lol.

Hey, I won't disappoint, either, with your preconceived notions of us on our iPads and Gateways going crazy with our emoticons because "we think they are so cute": [typing randomly with my nose] there ya go, ok?

Listen. I may be chronologically "old". But I can still walk 30 miles from the outskirts of the city to Downtown - carrying 50 pounds in my backpack - with "someone" up there doing his Ra Roid Rage thing and making me hotter than a pistol, which irritates me but that doesn't stop me. And, walk all-l the way back. So, where do you guys get the notion that our "senile" brains are so ossified that we cannot rise above the intellectual/spiritual level of an Aplysia and possibly, achieve, theurgy? I think I can play some of your board games. I have walked on the Riverwalk, the "board" walk in Tampa and I can attest to something getting really hard, still, when those hot girls in their twenties and thirties run by on in their tights, on that beautiful walkway by the river, and it isn't my pineal chakra. What most of the world calls "old age" never really settled in on me as a concept. I have been an "old man" since the age of 4. An old soul, young at heart. So lighten up and take chill pills OK? I have had enough with "age-ism" in the society at large. Let's not let this ogre into our glorious collection of websites and our community.

I hope this serves as an inspiration for all cane-users, walker-users etc. out there that it is never too late. Jump in, join the ever-growing crowd. I have not been disappointed and neither will you.

 

[Henu the Great]

But I am not seeing this lately. Oh, we be scalin', gettin' big, and we gots to move these old folks with their walkers aside so we can Build for Eternity.

How did you get to this conclusion?

 

[Aquarius]

Hello friend, you are welcome to stay here as long as you like - you could've misinterpreted some writings - but generally we do not kick anyone out because "they're old".