TIME

Today's post will cover an array of serious topics an-- NO PLEASE DON'T LEAVE. Give me a chance. Take a chance on me. Actually, considering that I just accidentally quoted Abba, you can leave if you want to. But at least scroll down and listen to the fresh, funky, fuNNy, frUitY (have I persuaded you yet) playlist that I made especially for you. Yes, YOU!
Now that we've sorted the weeds from... from t-the flowers (that's not even a thing) (but I'm pretty much calling u a flower so don't complain) I want to talk about TIME.

This topic was inspired by Days Of Our Lives. I tune in almost every day to get my fix of people-with-freakishly-white-teeth-talking-to-each-other-without-any-attempt-of-making-eye-contact but this time, more so than others, I was struck by the existential implications of the theme song.

The rhythmic violins quickly lulled me into a dream-like state and my eyes became transfixed on the hypnotic hourglass spinning in its clockwise rotation. And finally when the majestic "DAYS OF OUR LIVES" title emerged in the foreground I couldn't help but think about life and how short it is (lol I think I'm the first person to ever think about these crazy connections. #revolutionary #deep #poet #poetic #poetry #shakespeare)

#LikeSandsThroughTheHourglass #SoTooAreTheDaysOfOurLives #WhatIsLifeWhatIsDeath

It's been more than two weeks since I last posted and I honestly don't know what I've done in that time. It's just a vague blur of:

• drinking passion pop like this random woman on google images
• my card getting rejected at Subway because apparently I don't even have $7.95 to my name
• crying because of my card getting rejected at Subway and I don't have $7.95 to my name
• being inspired by YOLO
• staring at this photo for 3 days straight and wondering what life means
• tearing up and shouting "GOOD ON HER" over and over again when an old woman won $100,000 on Hot Seat
• and drunkenly walking into a sliding glass door at 7/11 (lol is that why I can't remember anything) (I mean there was lots of blood and I passed out for 5 hours but I don't think that rly means anything haha =])

As you can see with the above list, it seems that I'm quickly spiralling into a life of mundanity. Time is escaping me. Have I hit rock bottom? Is that why all my friends and family are surrounding me right now, crying on each other's shoulders and screaming 'stop doing this to yourself' at me :S? Also what does 'intervention' mean?
But as a journalism/ PR/ media student I know that I'll have to get used to this life. You know, since Gina Rinehart (who suspiciously has the same name and same body shape as Gina Lash) ate 18% of Fairfax. And, you know, since I can't even get a job at the local supermarket. I think I just wanna become a full-time blanket cocoon now. Either that or a duckling.

Playlist #1- SORE TOOTH

On these loosely connected themes of time, crying about subway sandwiches and the inevitability of my failed career in journalism, I think it's a perfectly optimistic moment to shut up and hand you over to the new playlist. This time I've put it on 8tracks so you can actually play it through in its entirety.

SORE TOOTH from dylanmccarthy on 8tracks Radio.

AGEING

My life is pretty much over. 

If my life was one of those sand-hourglass-egg-timer-things, it'd only have a few grains left to spare. The egg, a symbol of my life, would almost be boiled.

Sure, I've just turned 18, but those two digits might as well be reversed.

This realisation, that I'm actually ageing, and fast, rudely hit me when I was on the bus the other day. I realised that, hang on, I'm not 8 anymore. So I probably shouldn’t be wearing velcro runners with little lights in the soles that flicker whenever I run after mummy. Yep, I should probably take these off.

#Not8Anymore #BonusChildhoodPicture #TellMeImCuteLol

What triggered this epiphany? It was the horrid sound of laughter. Laughter belonging to youth. The laughter of those lucky ones with their lives still ahead of them. The laughter of those with unwrinkled skin.

When I heard the laughter, immediately I involuntarily turned around and glared at the pimple-faced culprit with a level of conviction I’d never achieved before. It was as if I was possessed by an angry tax payer. My reaction mirrored the 80ish year old man sitting next to me. Though I was a bit confused about what just overcame me, I joined him in a harmonised scoff of “ugh, teenage dirtbag” (baby) and a hi-5.

Proud of my efforts, I turned back around. But that’s when I caught my reflection in the bus window.

I realised, for the first time, that my face looked rather weathered. My eyes, too, looked different. No longer did they shine with the unencumbered freedom of childhood. Rather, they looked dim. Dim with concerns about superannuation. I then finally looked at the roll of yarn and half-completed scarf sitting my lap and it became obvious.

I’m old. Old. OLD.

In a panic I started to interrogate old man Jimbo sitting next to me. When did this happen? What were the warning signs? Why did it take so long for me to notice? HELP ME JIMBO I DON'T WANT TO BE LIKE ONE OF YOU. I grabbed him by the scruff of his accidentally trendy Cosby sweater but he simply laughed in my face. In horror, I turned back and looked at the teen with desperation. As if she could somehow save me from my impending doom. She took no notice of me. That's when Jimbo threw the scarf he had been knitting at me. IT'S TOO LATE DYLAN, YOU'RE ONE OF US NOW. Etched in the itchy fabric read: "ur old dylan lol just face it". And that's when I accepted my fate and wrapped the scarf around my neck.

Since then, I've caught myself flicking through junkmail. I also nearly sent an angry email to Metro. Then there’s the whole inability-to-function-properly-unless-I’ve-inhaled-4-short-blacks-in-the-morning thing. Also deserving of a mention are the naps I take on the train home from uni, without feeling a single ounce of shame. And I think I've got odd patterned socks on at the moment. I wasn't even trying to be ironic.

From this, if anything, I've realised (albeit, too late) that life is short. Don’t waste it like I did. Look at me, I just used the word 'albeit'. But there’s still hope for you. Learn from my mistakes. Go on... w-without me.