lips of an angel

At what age would you reckon that you’re old enough? Is it the big three O or the mid life crisis marker? Or you think that age is just a number and because of that, you are always forever young? 

It just struck me as I was wandering in my nothingness (again) today that very soon, I’ll hit the big three O barricade and that thought was the most daunting ever. Being thirty would make me feel old, but I am not necessarily old, if you get what I mean. At this juncture, then I would be inclined to agree that age is just a number. But beyond those numbers, with age, come a whole load of other responsibilities and expectations and what-nots. Well at least for me, I reckon my career should have reached a certain height or milestone by the time I have lived almost one third of a century, three decades to be exact. 

Certain areas of my maturity level would surpass those of my peers; I know that for a fact. However, my inner child still refused to grow up over the years. I am still as attached and loving to my bolster since birth until today. My mother has threatened to throw my bolster away on many occasions and those threats seldom go away without a tough resistance from me. I still poke fun at people and I am still a prankster at heart; so much so, most of my friends and colleagues could not help but whack me while being caught in the midst of my prank acts.

I continue to watch cartoons and laugh at the corniest jokes…imitate my favourite cartoon characters every now and then without much shame. I have enough Spongebob Squarepants to make the kids in the neighbourhood yellow with envy. My collection has expanded because I continue to receive the memorabilia as signs of affection and care. 

What is expected of one when one is old enough? I know I would not give up my inner child regardless. I attribute my wacky sense of humour to the inner child. Children are often the most creative and honest lot. They speak their mind and that’s where originality and imagination brew. I don’t mean that I can get away if I speak my mind and offend people though having said that, because I am still an adult in some technical ways. For one, I am living in the shell of an adult, ok, body of an adult. 

Perhaps that’s how I coined my creative terms of “raining cows and elephants” instead of the conventional “raining cats and dogs”. You know how we like to whine about certain people but it’s impolite and potentially life hazardous or career ending move to mention their names during your verbal stoning sessions? Well, when I whine about those people and their occasional incompetence, I don’t mean to backstab them to death. Instead I relate their incompetence into a funny series of story. And I don’t reveal names either; I usually call people who annoy me as “eeork”. Don’t ask me the origin of “eeork”, my inner child just came up that name. You’d be surprised that this “eeork” term trend soon caught up with my colleagues like wild fire in the forest. It’s not exactly impolite, but a funny name calling tones down the stressful situation quite immediately. 

But there’s this dilemma about aging…if you’re exposed to too much hardship emotionally, you might undergo premature aging emotionally. Once you reach a certain age, you’re expected to act like the age group you’re in. If three years olds play with clay dough, when you’ve reached the twelve years old play group, you’re expected to play with Lego instead. Society has cast this very costly stigma on age and the social norms associated with age. 

If you’re in the twenty five to twenty nine years of age group, you’re expected to be married or perhaps even have a kid in tow already. Late bloomers will be cast as the outcast, but is that an aging (de)fault?

Usually I feel old when I see schoolgirls in their school uniforms because truth betold, I have left school for donkey years. However when I see them dressing like people in my age, I feel young again in my jeans and t-shirt. Preserve your youth, I am inclined to shout at them, dressing up like your elder sister before your time comes is not that cool actually.

When I laugh senselessly while watching cartoon flicks, I know I am far younger than the chic schoolgirls flaunting their clubbing photos in Facebook. So age is really a gravity defying subject because nothing can truly hold age down, well, except for death maybe. 

There are times that I know I act like an adult, mind the word “act”. You have to hold your laughter when your boss said something not right whereas a kid would have laughed her heads off. Sometimes being an adult only mean that you follow the crowd in the Emperor’s New Clothes. Who was the real adult, the boy or the crowd?

I don’t know, as much as I think I can preserve my inner child and yet grow with the numbers, the aging thought is still a daunting one. Not to mention, on the journey along the road to aging, there will be many more wedding hurdles to cross. These hurdles cause the most stress to the inner child because of peer pressure. Hey, kids have peer pressure too remember? If Mary has My Little Pony plush, Jenny wants one too. If Jimmy has Hot Wheels, Peter wants one too…sigh, the growing up years never stops to be stressful sometimes. Oh well… 

Oh, and I still also lick my ice-cream the wrong way by the way