The speed, not the age. Because gods know I am not quite to 90. At least physically. Emotionally... maybe.
I hate strong emotions. More importantly, I hate when people see me experiencing these emotions. Happiness can be tolerated, until I start behaving like a giddy six year old. But my friends forgive me for that.
I forgot my medicine the last couple of days. And where I'd like to think that forgetting to take 40 mg of a white pill would not be detrimental to myself, I start getting overwhelmed anyway.
So last night I felt stressed. Full of negative emotions. And I deal with these things as I'm sure alot of people do. I drive. Windows down. Night air pouring in. Radio blasting. Speedometer steadily climbing.
And instantly, I feel better. Only country winding roads will do at these times. I smelled hay fields, heard the tree frogs. I stopped at a creek down a gravel, with a concrete slab as a makeshift bridge. I listened to the water rushing, baptized my feet and hands. Stared into the trees and tried to find the stars.
I got home calmer and happier. I was ok.