Old soul

My parents say I’m an old soul. They’re probably right. I was accidentally invited on a birdwatching walk for senior citizens when I was university, and I went on it! I joined a knitting circle once, and everyone else there had at least twenty years on me. I’m twenty four years old right now and I feel like my soul is older, like I’ve lived more experiences than twenty four years ought to be able to hold, but perhaps that’s because I lose myself in fiction as often as I possibly can, trying to pretend I can live lives other than my own, that other souls could overlap onto mine like a Venn diagram or a kaleidoscope. Some semblance of more than humanity, of animal or vegetative souls like the sort Aristotle wrote about.