I realized tonight that through my life—since highschool/college, say—I’ve always most enjoyed people older than me and people younger than me. But people my age? Eh. Perhaps because I suffered rejection after rejection by people my age while I wandered around the halls of high school and university. And so what? And so I don’t feel the age I am. But does anyone anyway? Do you? How incredibly weird! You’re 22! Or 34! Or 16! Or 55! Is that right? That can’t possibly be right. Ye have heard it said, “What if what is red to me is green to you?” But, verily, verily, some people eat cilantro and it tastes like soap and others eat it and it tastes like wonderful cilantro because of variations in the taste receptors that carpet the tongue.
What am I saying? Judge not lest ye be judged? Don’t worry about numbers? Subscribe to solipsism? Worship your homunculus? Our heads, it is true, are getting bigger. Let our capacity for understanding grow as well.