can you be too old at eighteen? it doesn't seem like it should be possible, but i feel just old. so old. an old body, old eyes, old ideas, old friends, old conversation...everything...decrepit.
i spend so much time not moving...sluggardly sitting on my bed, or on my sofa, or at my desk, or at the dining room table, or in front of the fire...always, always sitting. i'm so sick of sitting. its all making me sort of sick and disgusted.
worse of all, i'm so old that i don't even feel like i can get up and do soemthing about it...like i'm just going to be this crumbling elderly all my life. and the whole time i'm screaming at myself, "how can you be so foul!?" but my muscles have already atrophied and melted, and my bones are brittle, and to top it all off my head is so weary that it can't even command attention from my ancient body.
I watched Bend It Like Beckham...horrible movie, never watch it...but i sat with drooling envy of the lithe, lean, tan and healthy bodies of the soccer players. they were alive with energy, alive with compeition and eagerness and action. I wanted to be them so badly!
but its cold outside and my head just hurts if i think of doing something active. and so i sit. years passing as hours. waiting for something to aliven me. something that will probably never come unless i bring it myself...but alas, i am that fool.
