None of us think of ever growing old do we? We will always be eternal, always be young . . . old is always the next generation on. Something we are not, something we never want to be.
Modesty Ablaze – March 1982
Looking back through the years, I suppose we just keep shifting our own timeline . . . decade by decade . . . or, at least, I do !!!
So, jottings from my diaires . . . a Modesty Ablaze timeline:
From my Seventy-Teenies:
Rebelling from Catholic school tie and gymslips by day, to punk rocker by night down in deepest darkest Soho. I will never be old. Meet a boy with strange accent . . . A little older? Just a little. But . . . he works in the bar at the Marquee club in Wardour Street. Free tickets, free drinks at the bar! He likes me! The Clash, Siouxsie, The Damned, The Jam . . . wild times, wild nights. I’ll never grow old!
To my Eighty-Twenties:
I’ll never grow old. Leaving school. New job. Same boy, think he likes me. Summer holidays, island hopping Greek Islands. Different job. Same boy, think I like him. Flying to the bottom half of the world. I’ll never grow old! Returning home. Leaving home. Sinful living, same boy, we like each other. I’m never growing old, in fact I’m feeling younger.
And my Eighty-MidTwenties (almost):
Same boy. He loves me, I love him. White Wedding. Route 66, Everglades, Sunsets over Key West. I’ll never grow old! In fact, I’m feeling younger.
To my Ninety-Twenties:
New home. Same boy. Children. Love them. Suddenly . . . I’m getting older.
And my Two Thousand Thirties:
School run mornings. Back to work. Office affair. Oh God, what’s happening? I’m a wife, a mother, I should be being responsible, I’m not a youngster anymore. What to do? Must stop, can’t stop. Come clean to same boy. He says he knows already! He understands, he loves me. He thinks it’s fun. He doesn’t mind. I love him. I’m never growing old, in fact I’m feeling younger.
Oh suddenly it’s Two Thousand Forties:
Same boy. New job. New affair(s). Oh God. Can’t stop. Never growing old, in fact feeling younger.
And my Two Thousand Mid-Forties:
Same boy. Swinging fun, such fun. Three-somes, Four-somes, More-somes.
Oh God. Can’t stop. Never growing old, in fact feeling even younger.
To my Two Thousand Fifties:
Same boy. More fun, such fun. FemDom, Mistressing, Crops & Canes. Can’t stop. Won’t stop. Too much fun to stop.
I can’t possibly be getting old, in fact I’m feeling younger, ever younger!
Modesty Ablaze – March 2016
So . . . I’ve changed my socks since 1982 . . . changed my knickers too (not that I wear them as often now as I did then!) But I never want to change my philosophy . . . You are only ever as old as you feel! You can’t change Time . . . so use Time . . . Play Time . . . Feel young . . . be young . . . stay young . . . Forever young!!!
This week’s theme at Wicked Wednesday is on Growing Older . . . and if you tap the magic circle below, you are sure to find much more on time ticking by!
Xxx – K
Oh and P.S. – Be Proud of Who You Were . . . and
Who You Have Become!
Xxx – K
