So It Goes.

The aging process can be a real beast, a beast with many teeth. Whether you're twenty and still trying to figure out how to be a proper adult, while all the while resisting the adult world, or nintey and forgetting when to eat and pee, it's all some sort of suffering or striving. It's not like this is a big surprise to anyone who's been alive more than three years, but sometimes it strikes you just how vicious time can treat it's abiders. Makes you want to be timeless sometimes. Tough shit I suppose, but that doesn't stop me from holding on to my Peter Pan complex with all ten of my stubborn little digits.

The only reason I bring any of this up is my grandfather, the subject of my last and admittedly poor blog. I was taking him for a walk today and just as we were finishing our short down-the- block-and-back stretch of pavement, he suddenly turns to me and says, "Not bad for the first time, huh?"
I found this sad. Sad because I've been walking with my grandpa consistently for over a year now. What can you do? The time beast has bitten again, and my grandpa is once again slightly less of himself. A chew toy of time I suppose. So it goes, as Mr. Vonnegut would say. It goes and goes and goes.