As an age agnostic, I intend to focus on my wants, rather than my needs, in later life.
I want to dispel or, at least, disappoint the traditional expectations of me. To all my expanding coterie of circling caring professionals pouring over my body, I want to be a future fighter, a gravity defier and a collagen denier. I want to shower alone, tie my shoelaces, keep my teeth and fight the forces that want to hermetically seal my shrinking world. I want to laugh, have an opinion, complain and compliment. I want to eat the food I like – chips (un-masticated). I want to sing, dream, cry and aspire. I want to like me.
I don’t want to close the door to my room, turn out the light at 7 and lie in wait to greet the reaper. I don’t want to ring a bell for clinical company, to resent the rising of the sun, to turn away from my reflection in the mirror, reflect with regret or lose interest.
Sure, the harbingers of fear and doom will have their way at some stage and the evil forces of need will vanquish the benign forces of want. Till then, however, I will fight the good fight for wanting – for fries and fun.