to be determined.

It’s been over a week now and 50 is starting to seem like any other age above 48. I seem to be less and less obsessed with the idea. This could very well be the last post about it, at least for a while. Besides, the core purpose of this blog is not to discuss my age and issues connected to it – that’s just plain boring, and a little too inevitable and self-involved. What we want here are statements, observations, and examples of self-involvement that exemplify self-deprecation and reactions to the world around me.

So lets get to it.

This will be my first – subjectless un-planned rant in quite a few months – maybe almost a year. I am sitting in Dark Horse on Spadina Avenue in downtown Toronto. It’s not far from my wife’s workplace so some times I will catch a ride with her in-between work to get out of the home office. It’s a bit of an indulgence that I haven’t practiced lately. I guess, I get bored with things too often and move from one interest to the next cyclicly. It revolves and returns with random schedule – so it looks like I am back writing for now. Who knows, maybe next week I will be collecting retro Beanie Babies or something.

Back to 50. Sorry I thought I was done – but I guess not. It looks like everyone in here is at least 10 years younger than me. This is ok I guess … because I observe it subjectively, unable to see my physical self within the setting. The problem is that I know I look different. I am separate from the demographic in more ways than I am connected. Sure this is mostly an appearance-related segregation, but it’s there. Sight evaluation is usually our first emotional trigger when we encounter something – the lizard brain kicks in and establishes the parameters of how we will react or feel. I take a minute to interpret how most of the individuals in and around me might see me. I shouldn’t do this, but I do. I don’t like what I hypothesize so I refuse to write down my projected interpretations. It’s not a healthy pattern of thinking, so I abandon it.

Is it my lizard brain defence mechanism kicking it? This is turning into a tailspin of digressive self loathing.

My tea is completed and the music has changed into some horrid sampling of mid-eighties trip-hop/hip-hop that smells familiarly Canadian. I’t one of those tracks that I faintly remember hating when I first heard it 20 years ago. 20 year old shit still smells like shit. It forces me up and out of here – more later.

It turns out there was no more later on this post. After rereading it in draft form I decided to post it as it came out. Looking back at it now it seems a little tired. I hate when I go back and review something and find it a little forced or over-explored. It happens a lot with most of us and usually I will edit things like this out – keeping in only what I consider the best. But now I am forcing myself to try something new – I have taken it upon myself to reduce my self editing. I don’t want to self sculpt your impressions by leaving and taking away. This will keep things a little more authentic and un-staged.

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