I think I've figured it out, the whole aging business. You see, deep down, I still believe I have superpowers such as flight, invisibility, telekinesis, and yes, immortality. These are not mere flights of fancy for me. I secretly and personally define myself at the very core of my being as...wait for it...special.
Imbued with these powers, most would seek out next week's lottery or delve into the tangled web of global politics, but not me. I manage the effects of gravity by telling myself that these powers are here for me "in a pinch." Should I ever need them, these gifts will help me avert tragedies or warn others of a coming calamity.
But believe me, the power to see into the future, or at least know something before someone else does, isn't all it's cracked up to be. Let's say, for instance, that you look in the mirror and you're unhappy with the frown lines on your forehead, or you say to yourself, "Where did THAT come from?" And that whatever "that" is, is something you don't want.
Then, you find yourself peering deeper and deeper into the mirror and using that power of precognition, you see yourself all wrinkled, feeble, and downright old. At that point, foreknowledge isn't such a good thing.
I panic a bit. I have two choices. Go back to bed and agonize over my fading youth, or allow my future self to speak to myself right now. I instantly remind myself, "Now, now, it's not as bad as you think. In fact, you'd be thrilled to have this body 30 years from now. Look at how tan you are; look at how smooth your skin is; look at yourself in the mirror, if you lied about your age, you could pass for 7 years younger than you are today, and in the grand scheme of life, that's pretty young. Enjoy this moment. Celebrate this moment. Have fun. And remember, this is that time that you'll think back to later and wish you could be here."
My future self is so wise. I just love her!
Prophets and their prophecies often warn of doom and gloom. Me, I use my special powers for insight. These special powers of mine are what allow me to take an ordinary day and make it oh so special. These are the powers that get me through each fine line and belly bulge that comes my way.
Even when I'm 95 years old, I'll still have these powers. My future self might be dead, lifeless, and oh so unattractive, it's that self that would console my hard-of-hearing 95 year old whipper snapper and say, "Look at it this way, at least you're not dust. It's not as bad as you think. In fact, you'd be thrilled to have this body a few years from now. Look at how your chest moves up and down with that beautiful breath inside it, filling up your lungs, breath after breath; look at how your skin moves when you rub it, that sure beats rigamortis; just look at yourself in the mirror, if you were dead you wouldn't even be able to stand up, see that walker there, it would be useless. At least you can walk yourself into the kitchen for a snack. And, oh, don't get me started on the pure joy of snacks when you're in your nineties. If you want pumpkin pie for breakfast, with Cool Whip, you eat it. Remember the days when you refused to indulge yourself in a bag of potato chips and dip? Those days are long gone. Enjoy! Pig out! At this age, when you gain weight, it fills in the wrinkles and you drop, oh, let's say, 3 or 4 years. You could totally pass for 89, and in the grand scheme of life, that's pretty young. Enjoy this moment. Celebrate this moment. Have fun. And remember, this is that time that you'll think back to later and wish you could be here."
Sophy Laughing, 2070!
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