The quivering masses of the old man stayed in his thoughts. Would he end up like the aged male, slowly slipping his way into existances, and out again? Painfully, jolingly, hje realsie yes. He would become old and wrinkly, dying slowly as the age and time rotted away whith his flesh, his innards, his mind....

He would someday rely on other people for his safety, well being and toilet visits. Food would be mushed, shoved, thrown down his throat until he could no longer swallow, just gag. HIs excrement would get runnier and eventually become like urine, watery, strong smelling, disgusting rally. He owuld stop walking, even though his children reminded him every time they visited. Eventually bed ridden, filling the day with distant memories, and sleep, his only relief from the monotony of the day a toilet break, then back to his bed, his jail.... A visit from his family, them waffling on about work, and complaining, when all he wants to hear is things like achievements, love lives, crushes, their happiness times. . They stop, knowing hes not paying attention, cant, wont, who knows? THey leave promising to be back when theyre not busy. Heartbroken, his soul is ripped out, and it slowly leaves his body. Two hours later , he is covered with a sheet, and the ambulance takes the empty core of a man that used to be great, and celebrated, but spent his last days having his arse wiped by a non caring nurse, being fed mush that stuffed his insides, and being treated like a child.

Do we want to get old?