Oh, right- Hmmm...

[poliphilo]

I was in the hotel room dressing or undressing. I had my shirt off and my mind was God knows where and Ailz snapped a photo of me. 

I'd post it only Ailz has lost the lead to her camera and can't download it. (You believe me, right?)

It shows a fat old man. A fat old man with a vacant expression. 
 
Actually- worse than that;  it shows a ghoul.

I don't believe I've put on weight, but the muscles have relaxed.

You look in the mirror and you don't see the truth. You edit and adapt. You have an idea of what you "really" look like and you lay that across the appearance. Also the reflection plays along. It smiles and grimaces and acts youthful.

In my mind I'm ageless. Or- let's say- a young-looking 40:  mature, but still slim and trim with a boyish face. People used to tell me I didn't look my age and I was pleased to believe them.

Now I come to think of it, no-one has told me that for a while.

And now I know why.

Comments

[jenny_evergreen]

Happens to us all; it's why looks really truly shouldn't matter.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I agree.

I resent the ageing process, but also find it fascinating.

[jenny_evergreen]

*nod* It's interesting.
I'm not seeing much aging in myself yet, just some grey hair, but, then, it's hard, as you say. I can see how Tom has gone from a 19-year-old boy to a 34-year-old man. (I like the man better. ;))

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

There are advantages to this business of growing old. I keep having to remind myself what they are.