I have kinda developed this habit of keeping my facial hair in check for a long time now. I don’t really even know how it started. I try to make sure that my moustache is in order and that I pluck out any of the facial hairs that have split ends or that are of a different color from the rest. I don’t know but it has kinda become my thing. I would stare in front of the mirror for more than 15 minutes just making sure of that, and I actually use good tweezers to pick out those unruly strands from my upper upper lip.
I don’t consider myself good-looking in any way. For the most part, I think I am the most average looking guy I would know, contrary to what some people who would want to get in my pants say. But then again everyone is entitled to their own opinion.
I was staring at the mirror for a long time today when I noticed that I have been growing a lot more white hairs on the top and sides of my head. I had this thing when I was young, I had an accident involving some door frame, the top of my head and some pretty unruly kid behavior. Long story short, I think that was four or five stitches and then a gauze ribbon for a week. Since then, I have always had this patch of white hair near the left side of the top of my head. It had always been mistaken for a lot of different things: paint, dust, glue, and at its worst, bird poop, but it really is just a patch of white hair.
As was looking at the mirror, it seemed that the patch was not simply a patch anymore, I had strands of white hair growing all over my head now. This is a sign, a sure sign that I am getting old.
I am getting old. Let’s face it. When we were young, we always dreamed of becoming something or doing something out of our lives like be a doctor, or a lawyer, an architect or even a priest. But we never really imagined how much of that would actually be preceded by mostly growing and getting old. It’s not even confined to growing up anymore, it’s just about getting older.
I don’t feel as strong as I was before. I easily get winded even with less than 5km run on a treadmill. I am afraid I may never be able to climb a mountain again with the same vigor and excitement that I had when I was back in college, which, come to think of it, was not really that long ago. I can see my face getting wrinkled and my skin starts to sag. And I am getting fat. It is a lot harder to get a fit body when you’re often too tired to work out or just plain too sleepy or lazy to even get out of bed.
The fact is, growing old sucks. I am too old to play games with people. I am too old to waste time. Too old to sleep around anymore, or even sleep in. Too old to beat around the bush, too old to be romantic, or have a change of attitude.
I don’t know where this is going. I have to get some sleep. Old people have to rest.