Aging is Bullshit

I hate happy couples today. Couples walking hand in hand, smiling, laughing - seemingly on the same wavelength. Fuck you! I'm happier with myself than I have been in years and still so far from the mark, it would seem. I am much more comfortable picking apart this couple sitting out front of the coffee shop masticating their ginormous avocado sandwiches as if it would be their last meal. I'm having a hard time figuring out if they truly enjoy each other's company or if they are biding their time so that this afternoon they can go about doing what or who they really want. Grotesque open mouth smacking...fucking cows. No resentment. 

Watching people out in public makes me think I would rather be alone. It also depresses me and makes me think I'd rather not be around to age; I'm not a fine cheese and I'm certainly not vintage ANYTHING. Who says aging is natural? Did some asshole write it down somewhere that it's a progression that is mandated, necessary and required? Am I going to jail if I decide not to adhere to this holy scripture? What if I feel natural kicking my own bucket over at 65? Maybe I'm having a good run and decide to push my luck to 70. Shouldn't that be my choice? Maybe I don't want to spend the last few years of my life arguing the merits of one brand of adult diaper vs. another with an orderly who is likely to be wearing headphones to drown out my voice in an over-priced "assisted living" development. Like maybe one year I just decide I'm tired of the hassle that Curran must have with worrying about what's he's gonna do with my wrinkled ass in my old age. Let's face it, I'm not having more kids so my geriatric bed sore riddled ass falls in his lap. Reality bro! Who wants that responsibility?? Nope, I reserve the right to Thelma and Louise my still pristine ass right off a cliff wearing something fabulous with a piece of cake in hand and good tunes on the radio...