After dinner, I watched bits of a local TV station's forty-fifth anniversary anniversary/gala-thingy - a channel I'd watched daily during childhood - so when a retrospective of the all the programs they'd created came up, it was a bit of a stroll down nostalgia lane.

But I realized, while I enjoyed the nostalgia, viewing the passage of time is terrifying for me, and it induced a sudden panic attack and severe case of insecurity.

Because I'm reminded that the passage of time is relentless and merciless, and even though I age with every second, I still feel as helpless and scared and dependent as a child on the inside.

My security blanket of choice: 'The Four Quartets' and 'The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock'.