It kind of struck me today: I am 33, going on 34, and it will be soon. At Easter, or almost, which is kind of strange as it is alledgedly "
the age of Christ". Someone once told me it was a "
perfect age" because of this, I still wonder how the year when you get tortured and killed can be your best one. Imagine (just imagine!) the other ones. When I turned 33,
I barely noticed, because
I got distracted. Things changed a lot in this year that is about to finish and they changed very quickly, sometimes for worse, more often for the better. I will not write again what I have already blogged about, there are already enough repetitions here, but I have been thinking a lot about it as my birthday gets nearer. Maybe it is old age.
2 comments:
Plus on vieillit, moins on aime les anniversaires, enfin, moins les nôtres.
People have often asked me my perfect age, imagining me to say my twenties. I certainly prefer my thirties to my twenties, but if i had to choose a perfect age it was as a child, around 10 or 11. Your parents are still your heroes, the world is bursting with possibility, adventure, and magic still abounds. I remember hitting my teens and wishing away my childhood that remained, wanting to taste the freedom of adulthood. Now I long for the freedom that childhood so often affords us. Perhaps I have a little Peter Pan lurking in the corners of my psyche :-) I wish you a blessed birthday, whenever it is Guillaume.
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