Monday, May 17, 2010

On Longing For Youth: 100 Years by Five for Fighting


(In which we could never go back.)

***

It seems that no one wanted to stay young when they were. We all chased time and wished to get older, perhaps envious of the advantages of being a grownup and therefore taking our youth and its fleeting excitement for granted. Then upon growing up, we wonder why time seems to be racing forward; each day comes and goes in a seemingly rapid succession, leaving us bewildered at why so little progress were made, so many things were left undone and so many times were just let to pass.

I was reminded of these thoughts after listening to a song on the radio. The voice of the singer was so high that some of the lyrics were lost to my ears. I could not stop and just focus on the words for listening and enjoying his voice. Then I thought of having the song recorded and then I searched for some of the lyrics to find out the title of the song. When I finally got my own digital copy, I listened to it over and over. The media player on my PC might have gotten tired of playing it on replay.

The official music video was just as captivating as the song itself. It shows how time passes and how life progresses. We grow old from the innocent youngster we once were. It shows how verve was replaced by weakness. But until our final days the innocent youngster in us never dies. So is the desire to bring back time and being the innocent child. Perhaps we never had the understanding to enjoy the years that were supposed to be enjoyed. Maybe we enjoyed it too much that we neglect the responsibility that goes with the coming of age. Maybe we were just nostalgic. Or perhaps it’s because we’re just downright selfish and discontented.


100 Years by Five for Fighting

***

“Why didn’t you give me longer?” I barked at him as soon as I stood in front of him. “Why just two hours?”

“Two hours, two days, two years . . .it’s never long enough,” replied Gable . . .
***

Nothing Gold Can Stay
Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.