Remember me? Don’t pretend! That’s right – I’m your BODY and you can think all you like but you aren’t going ANYWHERE without me. I’m with you your whole life, cradle to grave – and you can PRAY TO GOD about not needing me afterwards – but that’s not likely now is it?
No, you and me are deep in it together and you had better get used to it.
So you didn’t mind me when you were younger did you? Caught you looking in the mirror a few times and it was ME that you were admiring. And you liked the feel of things – don’t need to remind you. Now you’re all pissed off that I keep getting older and your ‘mind’ stays young. I’ve gone flabby, my face is sagging and my hair is retreating faster than the Iraqi army. WELL TOUGH SHIT BUDDY. Take a good look in the mirror now because it’s just going to get worse and one day you’ll be howling to look as good as this again.
It’s all your fault – that flab is all the good times you had pouring crap down my throat, lolling around in front of a computer when you should have been doing laps. A nice sculpture of all the times you had ‘one more’. Then there’s the lines that come from all the bad times – all the times you screwed up and had to start all over again from the bottom. Shake it with genetics and serve on ice. We’re a real work of art and the best bit is way we’ve started stooping, a little now and then, getting ready to be a wizened old hunchback.
Are you frightened? You better be. This is MY time. I already sent you a present with that pain in your joints. Enjoy that little tweak in your morning hobble? That’s just the first SOLO, you wait for the full ORCHESTRA. And you have to admit this week’s toothache was a real show – a lecturer that has 5 hours of continuous talking and a screaming pain in their gob. All those teeth got to go one day, may as well sound the first bugle!
Yep, by the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be looking at all the young people around you with a burning jealousy that’ll have you alienated and lonely in no time. But don’t be too jealous – for all their current youth they’re right behind you. Everyone has a body and they’re all dying.
Keep busy writing and recording and all that crap you think is going to ‘transcend’ me. We’re best buddies, and as I rot so will you. When you can’t even sign your own name – we’ll finally be equal, and maybe then you’ll just have to accept who was the REAL master here.