Some things become apparent to me as I get older:
That I am never going to be rich.
That I am never going to be famous.
That I am never going to date a beautiful Korean girl pop singer with an innocent face and lithe body.
That I am never going to be invited to the Playboy mansion for a pool party.
That my life rolls on in endless song.
That I used to dress so fine, threw the bums a dime, didn’t I?
That there’s no place where everyone knows my name.
That nothing worth doing isn’t worth doing twice.
That I don’t know where the good times have gone.
That all my rowdy friends have settled down.
That the world is a ghetto.
That today is the first day of the rest of my miserable existence.
That time is not on my side.
That only the good die young and I am 64 years old, so what does that say?
That I’ll never be as smart as I think I am.
That I will never live up to my potential. Fortunately, few of us do.
That with great power comes great responsibility, so I’m off the hook.
That love is like oxygen. You get too much you get too high. Not enough and you’re gonna die.
That I can’t get no satisfaction.
That I chose to take both the blue and the red pill.
That there’s no do-over.
That this is it.
That it ain’t over till it’s over.
Mark Bruce, Writer 