That awful feeling...

*incohence warning*

In some truly bizzare contradiction of relative velocity, I find that the more the world around me grows older, the older I get.

Mischief and noise are the guardians of childhood, quiescence is the forebearer of adolescence, while responsibility wrestles with youth, and selfishness consumes adulthood.

So it is, the rule of this world, and indubitably that of many others, where squishy green aliens with antennas probably gather in a small hall and face distinct directions.

Sadly, however young ou may be at heart, you will know youth has given up on yo when you look up at the night sky before Diwali, and see only light, nothin mroe.