The "Freeola Customer Forum" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
So why am I so livid with terror at the thought of leaving my 20's? Dear God, my 20's were, for the most part, awful; I spent all but 2 years of 'em with a lady who turned out to be a bulemic with a borderline psychotic personality disorder! I spent a couple of years of them being a solicitor, and that sucked more balls than a cheap whoore with a snooker fetish. The end of my 20's have seen me find love (aw...), success at work, and general peace of mind.
So why the fear?
31 on the other hand is when the realisaton really sinks in....
> So why the fear?
I guess its different for everybody, but for me when I turned 30 the realisation hit that I didnt have all the time in world anymore. I found it quite difficult to shake the feeling that I'd not achieved enough and that I no longer had the time to achieve everything I wanted.
Geez, now you've depressed me again. :P
Can you give me her number?
I guess you can forget the time that's passing by until a big round number forces you to take notice.
I'm currently looking at 24 and thinking it's the point where you're just too old to be jerking around with the uni and post uni temping and job hunting, you should have a career on the go.
However, finding one of these mythical 'careers' looks like taking longer than the couple of months I have left.
30s? It seems to me like 29 is youth's last stand, as middle age finally wrestles control.
Well, obviously in reality the 'turning point' is just another day older. But that's the association I have with the age.
An old guy I know (60s) chooses to live as he did when he was 24, and refuses to consider hiumself any older.
It's not quite so cut and dry, he takes a lot of supplements, exercise, and various other measures to support it, but that's the lifestyle he wants, so he takes it.
Goodness, I'll feel the same way when I hit twenty.
Though, I look forward to my twenties, I aim to grow a real proper beard by 21.
So why am I so livid with terror at the thought of leaving my 20's? Dear God, my 20's were, for the most part, awful; I spent all but 2 years of 'em with a lady who turned out to be a bulemic with a borderline psychotic personality disorder! I spent a couple of years of them being a solicitor, and that sucked more balls than a cheap whoore with a snooker fetish. The end of my 20's have seen me find love (aw...), success at work, and general peace of mind.
So why the fear?