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originally posted by: droid56
When I was young, I perceived time as something that moved slowly. It crawled as I waited for a school year to end when I would then be released to the freedom of the summer holidays. It crawled as I waited to leave the education system, and throw myself into the great beyond. It crawled as I worked my way towards a career, a family of my own, a house, and identity as a full fledged adult.
But then time sped up, at first slowly, and then gradually faster and faster. I can remember 20 years ago as if it was yesterday. And the scary thing to me is that 20 years from now, I will probably be at death's door, since I am 64 years old, about to become a so-called senior in another month.
When we are young, we want time to speed up. When we are old, we want time to slow down, unless we are suffering with no way to escape the suffering.