Have you ever considered what your life would be if you weren’t able to speak at all? Have you noticed how dependent we are of our ability to talk?
I lost my voice last Sunday (I’ve been suffering from false croup) – and even though I tend to lose my voice completely about twice a year, it never fails to amaze me how much our world is based on being able to communicate with one another.
Luckily, I found my voice lying around somewhere under the couch on Friday – about time, I must add, because people were getting tired of my weird gestures nobody seemed to understand and afterwards waiting for me to write down whatever I had to say.
But even though I found it, it seems to have forgotten that it used to belong to a 25-year-old female:
With or without a voice – I’m still ill. But now it’s way easier to ask my boyfriend to fix me soup/buy me sweets/caress me/change the channel because I’m definitely way too weak to do it myself! 😉
Whereas kids make Den smile, elderly people tend to have that effect on me. Some old people seem to carry a grudge and they launch all of their resentful anger towards the young of today – yet this still puts a smirk on my face.
Why?, you may ask. Well, think about it. Once they were “young and rebellious”, probably surrounded by old people looking down at them saying “The youth of today. What has the World come to?”, or more likely “The Devil will get you back for this!” while shaking their wrinkly fists at the smoking Elvis-lookalikes.
But some old people still have some anarchistic behaviour left in them. For instance the old woman I met the other day while waiting for the train to come (not to Hogwarts though!):
She’s gonna be the hippest woman when wearing her new Chuck Taylors in the nursing home!
Respect the elders, they are effing cool!
The other day I woke up with a Fonzie-kind of hair style. Obviously, I put on my leather jacket and my aviators and went on with my day, greeting people with the thumbs up, because that is definitely what the Fonz would do.