I'm 100-years-old. Crinkled and worn, but with a slight vibrancy.
A freshly scrubbed college student is interviewing me about my life:
Does true love exist?
"True love exists, but sometimes it's messy. I takes over every fiber of your being. It doesn't have to be with a human being, per se. For instance, I love my cat. This tree. I water it everyday." I finger a bottle of Chardonnay at the base of the table.
What is the meaning of life?
"The meaning of life to live each day fully and to learn something new each day. You have to live it fully." Pregnant pause. I take a sip from my chalice. "I spent a large portion of my twenties going around half-assed. Young man, do not go around half-assed. Live it; love it; learn it."
But what if you're unhappy?
"I recommend smoking a little bit of weed everyday. But make sure you mix it with some anti-depressants. I recommend Zoloft. Buddhist chants help as well." I take gulp of Chardonnay. "Live it; love it; learn it."