Bright Eyes, Old Soul.

August 29, 2011
By sundaysmile SILVER, Jackson, Mississippi
sundaysmile SILVER, Jackson, Mississippi
9 articles 0 photos 8 comments

The inspiration behind making what I truly believe is the best decision for my life came to me while I was staring at my feet. Yes, every one of my twenty little piggies sparked a size nine inner revolution. Suspended happily on a green swing while sipping apple juice as the sunshine soaked my skin cells, I decided to stay young forever.
I’m not rebellious or stupid enough to want to be the edge in the circle of life. I’m not a person who fears death, or wishes to thwart it in some kind of Stephenie Meyer supernatural, fairytale battle. I will, however, wear down Death before he gets the chance to do so to me. I plan to laugh at Death on my one hundred and fourteenth birthday. Nevertheless, I will die someday and to that I say, “Bring it on.” I can’t wait to be a wise, white-haired lady getting my senior discount on at wherever elderly ninjas like to eat nowadays. Mortal and wise are fine by me, because I can only control what happens to my body for so long. It’s my soul that will stay seventeen forever, or until I decide differently. Who knows, I could feel like the world’s raddest forty-three year old on the planet and want to be that for eternity. The point is, until my life is taken from me – it’s mine for the taking.
I honestly don’t think any person in this big, blue world can say they have never wanted to freeze time, no matter how small or grand it was in the scheme of things. Maybe we want to keep memories in bottles until we need to pour them over ourselves like holy water to feel alive again. On the other hand, we might wish to walk into the hospital room when and where our child was born or into the embrace of a true love and stay there forever, looking like creepy, smiling mannequins to the rest of the unfrozen world. I think it’s the feeling of knowing and loving where you are in life, and still thirsting for more.
I don’t wait to forget how wet grass between my manicure-less toes and morning sun on my pale face feels. The feeling of singing my heart out until I can feel my vocal chords vibrating in my throat, and still not even hearing my own voice, while not to do so one way or the other. The overwhelmingly strange security I get out of loving someone truly, deeply, and without sane reasoning. I can’t freeze time; however, I can make sure that I never lose my heart. And that is just fine by me.
Growing up will come eventually, I suppose. I’ll enjoy playing with my dentures and seeing whether or not I can hold a pencil between my wrinkles. Approval for my decisions isn’t needed, but support is always appreciated.
I’ve decided to stay young forever.

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