30

Time is gold, or so they say. Treasure the minutes and seconds as they are due to expire. Once gone, they are irretrievable. Time is the most splurged and the most implored.

My friend told me once that upon reaching thirty, time swifts by. The sand in my golden twenty-ninth hourglass hastily passages through its narrowest section. It will scream 'Time's up' sooner or later. Before the last bit of sand occupies the microscopic space, I need to face two grueling options: to let it breeze right through me like an arrow hitting an apple from afar, unnoticed, or savour its sweetness and bitterness with squinted eyes and twisted mouth, salivating. Hmm.

It has been three days since my birthday. I have been pulling hours and days to hasten them, but I had not realized that by doing so, I am skipping the most valuable in-betweens. Missed conversations, missed appreciation, missed smiles. Missed hellos and missed goodbyes. Nature taking its course but slipping my keenness. I do not mind missing deadlines, but missing bellow of laughters and whispered small talks equates to missing a pricey day in one's life.

And it has been three days since my birthday. I guess this would be my most documented pre-birthday, my thirtieth. Thirty is a big number. It is a big leap of faith and a small step towards betterment. I will be forwarding to a new phase of my life, thirty. If the average life expectancy is sixty to seventy, thirty becomes the climax of one's journey. It breaks or makes it. It alters it. It imbues it. Life does not begin at forty. It commences at thirty.

"Thirty, Flirty, and Thriving," according to 13 Going on 30. Thirty, Flying, and Still Trying, I say. What differentiates me from my comrades is my persistence and my muses. Procrastination is a venial sin. What lies ahead can be trod graciously. 

And so my preamble begins. :)