This phase of life, when you start to find a lot of grey hair on
your head, is difficult, I tell you. Especially when you are not even
married. Especially when your Mother in her sixties still has like only a
couple of white stands. You avoid looking at the mirror. You try to
pluck them out but soon they overwhelm you.
Today though, I gathered some courage to glance over them. And they pushed me into this thought chain. How fast time has passed. There was so much to be achieved by now. There still is. And the time is not going to slow down. We must get our acts together and rage. I guess I will keep them this way. They remind me of these powerful lines by Dylan Thomas.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Rage, rage against the dying of the hair.
Today though, I gathered some courage to glance over them. And they pushed me into this thought chain. How fast time has passed. There was so much to be achieved by now. There still is. And the time is not going to slow down. We must get our acts together and rage. I guess I will keep them this way. They remind me of these powerful lines by Dylan Thomas.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Rage, rage against the dying of the hair.
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