What’s the big deal, really? It’s just… a number. And maybe some wrinkles. Perhaps some strands of white hair. That’s all. Rea

Just went visiting my great grandma today. She’s 90+ (Yes, I failed to ask her age), and she’s still capable of taking care of a mini mart by herself. She looked just like any other old grandma’s. Except that she’s quite healthy, can walk on her own, heck, she can even cycle. You don’t get many old ladies like her these days.

But yes, she’s undeniably getting older, and she walks rather feebly, compared to her younger days. She however, stubbornly refused to let my mum aid her in walking towards the car.

After awhile, Mum turned to me and asked, “Scary, isn’t it. Getting old, not being able to hear, to walk.”

My bro chipped in, “I wish I can be immortal.”

Is that really what most people wanted? Immortality? To live forever, while watching loved ones slowly ageing, and dying, and you couldn’t do anything to prevent them dying, nor could you do anything to TRY and make yourself die. What’s the point of living, if you’re all alone while the world evolves around you?

To be honest, I’d rather just live happily, and die at a ripe old age. Not too old. But not too young either. 80+ would be ideal.

…

Oh god. I’m having suicidal thoughts.