Sitting in central park blathering on about living way past 30 and i didn’t plan on it. somehow i’ve become old. wrinkled. sagging. invisible. being invisible is the hardest of all. all the whoops & whistles are for the lithesome blonde in front of me. being invisible and not planning to live this long is an odd place to be.
my oldest friend, D., an actress & a model, loathes having her picture taken – hence the empty bench under the cherry tree where we drank coffee bewildered & befuddled & elderly.
“Old age is the most unexpected of all the things that happen to a man.” ~Leon Trotsky Diary in Exile, 1935