Three come at once

Tonight was my first public screening of a short film I've acted in. And the second. And the third. Over the last three months I've been in about 9 shorts and the first three to screen all screened on the same night. One at a central London cinema, then the following two at a major art gallery in London - luckily pretty close.

Then I got drunk, kissed the girl who was in the third short and cycled home in the pouring rain. I've sobered up a little now... but I'm still wet.

I was feeling like a student again, utterly careless. But as I looked in the mirror I was drawn to the lines appearing under my eyes. Only in my mid-twenties, and the fear of old age is already setting in. I tell myself it's ridiculous, that you should accept you are and how you change.

Yet at the same time my vanity shrieks out the lack of time. Age hurtling onwards as youth slips inescapably away; a previously unwanted treasure sinking into the depths, forever further out of reach.

Narcissistic fool