When I am Old

I know I would hate to suddenly realise at eighty years old that I haven’t lived my own life. That I haven’t always searched for ways to improve myself and to become a kinder person. That I have spent my whole life living by someone else’s perception of how I should live. Blowing an entire months wages on that Michael Kors handbag, because I need to buy things that I can’t afford, to impress people that I fundamentally don’t care about.

When I am old and I can’t dance around the house or sing at the top of my lungs anymore. I want my memories to comfort me like books always have. A good read isn’t all sunshine, rainbows and Prada. A good read is tears, heartbreak, laughter, love and loss, but it grips you and it makes you feel alive. I want my mind to tell me my story one last time before my book is finally closed because I know, it will be my greatest read.



© Rachael Bee and Raggie Writes, 2018 – 2020. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Rachael Bee and Raggie Writes with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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