Perhaps its from all the angsty teenage music i'm listening to, but i don't feel obliged to disavow the opinions from my previous post: that youth is for living. I always feel vaguely guilty when i do crosswords. Such a old grannies pursuit. I'll be drinking sherry next. And shuffling about knitting booties. My new genre of music WILL BE the click-click-clacks of knitting needles. I'll be bopping along to their syncopated rhythms until i dislocate a joint or wear down a hip or something. But then...if i enjoy doing them, then what's the problem? What's the big issue? I DEFY THE AGEIST AUTHORISATION OF TEENAGE ACTIVITIES!

But, you know, plenty of time to indulge in them when i'm old. But there's a lot of other things i won't be able to do once the arthritis sets in, and the skin sags and yellows and the fingers become gnarled and the aphasia sets in and the images of yesteryear fade and the world looks at you as an obsolete parasite sucking gumlessly on the taxpayer wage....ohhhhhhh god i'm scaring myself. Hmm. Plan #2: die young. Live fruitfully. As in eat fruit a lot. I'm living very fruitfully. Full on fruit. I had 3 apples today. It makes me hyper.

HYPERHYPERHYPERHYPERHYPERHYPERHYPERHYPERHYPER
!

But......I WILL NEVER GO BANANAS. Bananas suck. Any human who eats a banana is instantly transformed into a monkey. Visually, it's inescapable.