It's funny how we managed to juggle 8 or 9 subjects when we were young and not complain; while we can barely cope with 4 to 5 as the years creep up on us slowly, but surely. Instead of inheriting greater wisdom, we're actually acquiring lesser knowledge than before; and our goals in life have dwindled to a single aspiration - work (juxtaposed with play). What else is out there besides living on a fixed income and donating your soul to the cauldron of politics? When we get on in years, our pliant minds will be succumbed to the gimmicks of crooks and swindlers; our eyes will get weary from boredom; we will be plagued by innumerable variants of illnesses; we will be unable to control our bowels; we will have a proclivity to throw tantrums; etc etc.

By growing old, we're not aging per se; we're becoming more childlike, becoming younger.

Aren't we then uncannily similar to Benjamin Button? Or are we not?