I never ask for much. Never for perfection. Just enough to function. I run like a classic car, you see. Runs a little rough and not treated well by time. Paint missing here and rust formed there. Maybe fixed prettier after a share of attention and care. But never new again. Forever classic.

Parts can be repaired. A fresh coat of paint applied until it shines. It will never be exactly how it was and it will never be made modern. Homeless in time. Displaced by nostalgia. Isolated variant of itself within a margin of error. Frozen in flux. That is the trade off of becoming classic. To become yourself and nothing more.

I just wish people accrued value like a classic car. To be rare and unique and wanted. But people are so much harder to maintain and the rust so much more complicated to remove. Much like so many classic cars, they would rather put the rare ones on display and nothing more. Maintenance is too much work. Value is held only at a distance. Relevance fades away. Maybe I do not want to be classic. All I need is to be functional.