But you grow up and your priorities change, you know? You find the things you worry about, change. What you once deemed important now seems trivial. Out for a drink with the boys? Maybe next weekend, bro. I’m flipping through pastel paint swatches and saving up for a fucking sofa. I'm at her parents house. I’ve got to work early tomorrow...Before you know what hits you, you find yourself pushing a stroller in the kitchen department at Ikea on a bloody Sunday morning. Is that a smile of self-depreciation or are you reminiscing of times gone by as you try and stuff that Lack wall shelf in white finish, in your impractical pre-marriage coupe? FUck.
These changes happen gradually though, yeah? They sneak up on you. Growing up is a sneaky fuck in that way.
Not that any of its bad mind you. I’d be the last one to say you should consciously set your mind to stem this transformation. Plug the hole in the dam, or just let go… let the raging waters sweep you away. Your choice mate. I’ve made my bed and I sleep in it every night. Soundly.
There have been huge upsides to these changes though. Like clean socks and regular home cooked meals. And oh yeah, did I mention that I spend my time with my very own little angel these days? And speaking of her highness...
... I'm selling Leha (my car). Asking price: RM25k for a crusty piece of 90s rice rocket subculture. Tell somebody.
Its four doors and extra leg space for me from now on mates. Multiple cup holders and mafia hitman boot space.
Low mileage and airbags. Mirror finish paint work and EU saftey tags. Burr walnut finish and variable wiper speed. One handed crusing and a map light to read.
Mint freshner and a content sigh. Looking ahead the day you die.
