As our bodies start to show age and a multitude of physical systems slowly begin to break down, time marches through our bodies like the Angel of Death swinging his (or her) sickle with malice of forethought. He attacks our skin, muscles, hair, eyes and even our unmentionables. Yes, even our desires start to wane. It is like our whole body starts to crumble down around us and, like Humpty Dumpty; we are powerless to stop the fall.
Some can’t stand the thought of decline, so they have tummy tucks, butt tucks, eyelid tucks, arm tucks, breast tucks, face lifts and, in fact, I don’t think there is anything that can’t be tucked, lifted or enlarged. Of course one exception is the hair transplant, which explains why some people look like “The Donald.” But, alas…even after thousands and thousands of dollars spent tucking, plucking, sucking, adding, subtracting, injecting and objecting, Father Time still has his way with us.
There is one horrible exception; our brains watch the destruction of our bodies with relish and great pleasure. The torture is sublime for our all-seeing mind’s eye. It’s the payback for all the times we drank too much, smoked too much, partied too much, made love too much (maybe not this one) and generally abused our bodies. The brain never forgets and waits patiently for “The Decline.” It is simply insidious that we have to watch our young, firm bodies start to sag ever lower toward the ground while our brain still dances and kicks its neurons high in the air with laughter and pure delight.
You see the mind holds consciousness and our brain knows that even before we are born. While the doctor slaps our butts after delivery, the brain starts planning revenge for things that haven’t even happened yet! The brain is thinking, I feel future abuse coming soon – isn’t it grand! Since consciousness goes on forever, the brain never really dies. How unfair is that? Our brains make us watch our own demise second after second, minute after minute, day after day, year after year – OK, you get it.
Well, I’ve got news for you Mr. Brain; I have a plan. From this moment on, I am going to wear a full body, black cloak. Yes, it will even cover my head. I have an eight-day supply of cloaks so that when they need cleaning I will still have an extra one to wear. Oh, by the way, during showers and cloak cleaning days, I will be wearing a Zorro mask without holes for the eyes. I will not be able to see my body, nor will I touch my body without gloves. There is no way I will know how fast I am aging.
Oh, yes, I know what you are thinking; I will never see my body again. On this point you are correct, but the beauty of this plan is that you won’t get to see my body ever again either! What do you think about that smarty brain pants? What did you say? I will still feel my body sinking slowly to the floor under the cloak? Damn, foiled again! Is there no way to outwit the brain? I think not….
I’m just saying,