Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?
That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.
Is youth wasted on the young? Before answering let me pose another; is such a contention not simply born of nostalgia and regret? Do people who think like that not simply want to be young again? If you were young again, what would you do that is different? Yes, I know that you might attempt to avoid some situations, and some people, but you would still live as if you were young; and that is the whole point, not thinking about tomorrow. Wisdom does not come with age: complacency does and, yes, sorry, so does jealousy.
So, let me tell you how I ‘waste’ my youth, apart from writing this that is! I’m a student. I love the subject I’m studying and the people I study with. I have a wide circle of friends. I go to clubs, parties and social gatherings of one kind or another every weekend. I have sex, lots of sex, and though I have a steady boyfriend I am not monogamous, which he knows and accepts. I drink, I smoke, I dance and, yes, I occasionally snort cocaine. I love to go riding on Sundays, and have my own horse. I play tennis and I go sailing along the south coast of England, when the weather permits. I travel whenever I can. I was in Morocco over the New Year, where I made even more friends, and I went to India after my degree exams. I regret nothing; I apologise for nothing.
So, yes, I am seizing the day. What more would you ask of me? I’m mortal; I know I will grow old; I know I will die. But I will, still here, now and always, take life by the balls! I agree with the divine Marcus Aurelius, who said in his Meditations live each day as if it were your last. :-)
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