I don’t care about age much, or I just think so. Perhaps I do care. Hard to measure the degree of this care of mine…
Anyway.
Recently, I realised that most people are younger than me.
I was that boy with the usually older friends, and most of my life people did not believe that I’m younger than they thought I am. Usually I’ve been just a few years younger, so not a big deal from the perspective of someone of my age.
I’m treating people younger than 30 as kids, and it’s not going to change, I afraid. To comfort a young reader, there are plenty of people older than me whom I treat as kids too.
The fucking infantile imbeciles, are they not?
Saying that, that does not mean I treat them, younglings, with negativity. They’re just people having very limited real life experience, that’s all. The only negative thing about them to me, is them not realising how little they know, how shallow their experiences are, and them thinking they were what they thought having an adult life for just a couple of years …
There’s an old man living in the neighbourhood, I’m friendly and chatty with him, always a small talk. He’s got a kind of bad blood something thing, and it looks like he’s going to die soon. (I’m not sure he’s alive right now, haven’t seen him for a week or so.) That’s sad, and I don’t know how to approach this. ‘Come on dude, you’re old!’ is cruel and that won’t comfort him. He’s about 70-to-80, so…
We’re having this genocidal war Russia wages on us, it’s been almost five years of this full scale war of theirs. And since very early into the war, I’ve accepted the fact I’m going to die any moment.
‘You’re approaching the forties!’ my (not so much, just a couple of years) younger wife says.
‘God knows I’d like to actually reach that age, and I hope I will, but that’s too early to say that’ my reply goes.
I’m having so many plans, and the weird thing is, most my earlier plans are meaningless and irrelevant now.
My mother’s friend has congratulated me with my birthday yesterday. This morning I’ve bought myself a present, an adjustable fucking wrench. Well, and a professional drill from Bosch, but that was a few months ago. Used once, for a few mins. Ifinally realised that’s cheaper than deal with my wife’s mother, who thinks I take it from her because I cannot buy that thing, lol. (What an idiot you must be to think that.) Not because I don’t like to have unnecessary things of no interest to me. (I have some unnecessary tech, but I’m interested in tech, that’s why I have them things.)
The funny thing about them things, being never interested in them, I have never even wondered what’s their price is. Turned out, I could buy myself a workbench’s worth of tools decades ago. Just never been interested in them. They’re incredibly affordable. I’m surely going to buy them all; but I’m holding myself off till the point I’d actually buy the place to store them. Either a special apartment or office (what I have today, but I rent it, which means it’s not fully mine). Or better some land, as I’m desperate to have my own tiny (or not) data centre.
Yeah, buying an iPhone feels like a non-achievement. I’m eyeing a used Pixel to play with, but I’m holding it off, as much as I can, because
theirGoogle’s hardware is shit (software too, by the way), and so that’s a way for a guaranteed disappointment.
The wife asks me what do I think, would I do that (the bigger dreams, not the smartphone, lol) by my reaching the actual forty.
‘The fuck I’d not’ I say and think. ‘I’d appreciate having some sleep by then.’
Sleep’s been a complete disaster lately. Like eight years lately. Having a family—
Well, kids, wife is rather not, I’m afraid; unless you date her.
Having a family is a bliss, but it’s so tiresome, to have some random people around all the time!
Understanding the world so much better … was something I reached for for so very long, that it feels a bit weird now. The world is broken, and it’s going to stay that way forever. So, maybe it’s not broken, after all. And the system does what it does.
I betrayed (lol, I use that word in a mocking way, obviously) the people who raised me, by not accepting their origins, intentions, and beliefs. Meaning, Russia is a terrorist state. Meaning, I don’t speak Russian, sincerely.
I bet some think I’ve got some crazy ideas / beliefs / whatever, and that’s a temporary thing. That made me realise (once again, not that it was something new) that almost nobody from my previous life journey knows me at least to some significant degree. Not that people even try, most are living their happily unconscious lives.
I visit Instagram, and while a decade ago that was a game of trying to not visit Instagram too often, today I’m sincerely agree with the Zuck, treating his users as stupid fucks. Oh, they are, indeed they are!
I’ve wandered here and there visiting some random people I once knew, most are from Belarus, most had fled the country long ago, some having kids, most speak Russian, and not just at home (which I don’t appreciate, but perhaps I could understand that, if I was more kind), but also publicly. Like, the fuck? Imagine being that stupid! Not that I had any illusions about the intellect of those who speak Russian and no other language.
I sincerely believe speaking and thinking Russian making you so stupid that you’re incapable of learning anything new ever again. Especially a language and culture. As if you’re getting some injection to become a barbarian. As if the language was carefully designed to make you grunt.
But still, that’s disappointing for some reason. I realised I won’t be able to tolerate even a former lover, for longer than some very short time frame. That’s disappointing and heart breaking. I won’t be able to cross that point, to get the genie back into the lamp. Fortunately.
I’ve long accepted the fact that I’d rather die being a free person here in Ukraine, then I’d live in Russia (or its newly occupied territories, which is the same, but worse) for a single day of my life. I wanted to escape that joke (a pretty cruel one) of a country (what others mistakenly think of it, it’s just a territory, ruled by mafia).
And so I think, I may inevitably make some new friends along my way. Which gives me some will to live, and feel young, despite being devastated by this lack of proper sleep and time for myself.
Given some other circumstances, I think I might join the army, but the cynical me thinks Ukraine has so many ‘Russians with Ukrainian passports’ that I think these folks would be so much better in that system than me.
Being on my high horse. (In a way.)
I may still join the forces, if I’d see the reforms I’d like to see. (And many in the service people as well.) Since I’m not legally obliged to join, I’m not hurrying to as well. What I’m bothered with though, I’d prefer my kids and their friends at school or kindergarten to protect the country. I mean, they’re seven and five now! And it looks like the war may take another decade, considering it’s being at its 13th year!
Since 2014, when Russia seized Crimea’s and attacked Donetsk and Luhansk. If we’re to ignore the history, as the war is active for like centuries. Fucking Russians.
Also, considering the American president works for Russia, betraying America. Not that it was a reliable partner to start with.
I wonder, is our country actually to become a safe place? Considering all we need to do is to defeat Russia with our hands tied and everyone else partnering with our oppressor. Which means the global war may take the entire 21st century, which I’m unlikely to outlive.
Saying all that—
Ah, my new local friend’s wife, she’s having her birthday, same day with me. What a coincidence!
So, saying all that, sometimes it feels like the life is only beginning. Would be so sad to have it ended any time soon. But I have very little control over the outcome anyway.
People are dying. When they’re not, they live, I guess?