Aging isn’t the problem — it’s the reruns. A tongue-in-cheek survival guide for anyone who’s ever looked back and thought, “What the hell was I thinking?”

Daily writing prompt

Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

View all responses

---

---

This could be an interesting question, depending on how you look at it.
If we’re talking about glory days—back before the gray, before the knees filed for early retirement, before hangovers started needing a recovery plan—then no thanks. I have no time for foolishness and even less to say on the matter.

But if we’re talking time travel—now you’ve got my attention.

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been building a time machine in my basement. No one believes I’ll ever get the damn thing working. Their “lack of faith in the Force is disturbing.” One woman told me, “It’s not my lack of faith in the Force—it’s my lack of faith in time travel.” I rolled my eyes, of course. Time travel is real—just like dragons. What, don’t look at me in that tone of voice.

So, I decided it was necessary to create a short list of do’s and don’ts. Some of these should be obvious, but you and I both know humans are notorious for dumbshit. What follows is my rough draft of the guide.

---

Time Travel: A Practical Guide for the Chronologically Curious

DO

1. Bring humility, not luggage. You can’t pack self-awareness into a carry-on, but it’s the only thing that makes the trip worth it.
2. Wave, don’t interfere. Watching your younger self screw up is part of the fun—it’s a rerun with better lighting.
3. Ask the questions you were too proud to ask back then. “What the hell were you thinking?” still counts.
4. Thank the ghosts. The people who left or broke you were part of the architecture that got you here.
5. Notice the details—the color of the room, your mother’s voice, the way your laughter used to sound before the world got louder.
6. Come home. Time travel’s a sightseeing tour, not a place to live.

DON’T

1. Don’t try to fix anything. You’ll only trade one regret for a newer, shinier model.
2. Don’t warn your younger self. That idiot needs to learn. You’re living proof they eventually did.
3. Don’t chase old flames. The girl who didn’t pay you attention the first time still doesn’t give a damn about your ass now.
4. Don’t drown in the what-ifs. That’s not nostalgia; that’s self-harm in prettier clothes.
5. Don’t justify your present by rewriting your past. If you’re lost, that’s on today’s version of you.
6. Don’t forget to bring back souvenirs—perspective, closure, forgiveness. They travel light but change everything.

---

Once I stop procrastinating and actually finish building the damn time machine, I wouldn’t use it to relive anything. I’d just visit long enough to remember that every mistake had a purpose and every joy had an expiration date. Then I’d come back, pour some coffee, and—I don’t know—maybe write my thoughts on a blog called Memoirs of Madness. Then get on with the business of living whatever version of now I’ve got left.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

---