No one knows why. It's just part of being human. We may be talking only to ourselves, but we continue to talk.
It's either very sad or very funny, or both.
Irrelevance, here I come. I'm halfway there already. The world has passed me by. Actually, I would expect it to have [passed me by] as I celebrated my 80th birthday a few months ago and some gosh-awful huge percentage of the world's population are now Millennials or Gen Z types. Young whipper-snappers, all of them. It has been ever thus. The old have their day in the sun, peak, and die off eventually (although Betty White and Dick Van Dyke and even, God help us, Pat Boone seem to go on forever). One generation is replaced by another generation. There's a certain inevitability to it all. Prince Philip is gone, and Queen Elizabeth II cannot be far behind.
Each of us is moving rapidly from "I think, therefore I am" to "I no longer think, therefore I must not be" to "I don't remember your name, but your face is familiar" to "Who was that masked man anyway?"
As one horse said to another, "I don't remember your mane, but your pace is familiar."
Yuk, yuk. Laugh it up, folks, these are the jokes.
Creative writing courses are for the timid. Who needs an outline?
Just open your mouth (or pen) and let 'er rip.
Maybe that has been my problem all along, as well as the secret of my success. I am weak mentally (Spanish, loco en la cabeza), I am unconventional (I don't care what others think), and I am indefatigable (a big word meaning I don't know when to quit).
Not to worry. Everybody has to be something.
If you like, you may continue discussing "what's wrong with rhymeswithplague?" in the comments section.