Sometimes i wonder if everyone around me will grow up to this certain age and start actin old. As in really old. Where conversations are mostly in the past tense, startin every story with introductory retrospections on past events that had taken place in that halcyon years and usin words like "used to", "if i was younger", "in my younger days" or "you are too young to understand" too frequently or even develop a likin for those newborn monstersbabies that cry too much. Couldn imagine how life can possibly go on that way. Suddenly i could understand how Peter Pan feels.

Anyway, i was on my way home when i saw this tough lookin guy in a jacket lyin on the pavement after a bike accident. He seems to be in pain. This scene suddenly reminds me of something i that i had wrote a few years back in my portfolio.

"I had chosen the shell as its hardy and robust exteral usually portray a deep sense of strength and defensiveness as it give sanctuary to the life within. A shattered shell is a sheer oxymoronic example of it, the eventual breakdown despite its strength, urging people to stop and take a closer look at our vunerable life."

Somehow, reading the same words over doesn bring back the same feelin. i guess nothing have changed except my own perception.