Nineteen. Being nineteen marks another phase of my life where my past flashes past across without me realising.

Twenty-one. You don't have the time to look back all you got to do is to capture every moment and make those extra special.

Twenty-five. You don't want to slow down.

Thirty. You are tired. Monetary accomplishment, yes. Emotionally stressed out, yes.

Thirty-eight. Two more years and you are done.

Fourty. You think this might be the beginning of another phase of your life.

Fourty-five. You never felt better.

Fifty. What do I have to worry. Apart from the drooping figure. But who's watching?

Fifty-five. Time to make some arrangement. Not that I have that much of assets.

Sixty. The time will reach anytime from now.

Seventy. Emmm... I am still around. Too much exercise?

Eighty. Life flashes past you. This time, clip by clip with clear cuts, of course with some flavors of failing memories.

Ninety. I wish I was nineteen.