I have these visions of myself being thirty, thirty-five, forty having a family.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
The only time you really live fully is from thirty to sixty. The young are slaves to dreams; the old servants of regrets. Only the middle-aged have all their five senses in the keeping of their wits.
I thought I'd be married and a father by 35.
Lately, I can't shake the feeling that I've been living a dream for the last 10 years or so; I can't account for most of my 20s, and I have to continually remind myself that certain people are dead now and many of my friends have children.
My own fantasies of what life would be like at 24 tended to the more spectacular.
I was darkly convinced that at age 52 I would kill myself because my mother committed suicide at that age. I was fantasizing that she was waiting for me on the other side of the grave.
After thirty, a body has a mind of its own.
When I was 15, I never thought I'd live to see 21. And then I became 21, and I'm like, 'I'll never live to see 30.'
I've lived the life of a 35-year-old since I was 18.
At 30 I thought my life was over. I thought I'd have made something of myself by then, that life would somehow have made the necessary arrangements - but actually I had nothing.
I have dreams that I will reach balance in my life, and, at forty-one, I have none.