"I am no superman; I have no answers for you..."

There used to be a boy who dreamt of holding the stars in his hand and living on the moon. There used to be someone who believed in magic and innocence and light and standing up for what was right.

Funny thing about growing up is that the more it happens, the less you actually "grow". Figuratively and literally. I do so love the delicious irony of the law of diminishing marginal utility. You set this law, you think about it, you study it, you record it and there you have something you can use to explain much of everything and anything and whatever else.

Ah, if only it were that easy...!

I'm not saying it's a bad thing. I'm just saying that it's disappointing.

I mean, cut to right now. I'm actually enjoying the first semblance of stability I've had in years, I'm actually doing okay, I'm doing great (figuratively speaking), and every cell of every inch of me is saying this is how I should have been doing things in the first place… It's not perfect (not at all, by a long shot, but relatively speaking and social conformations notwithstanding, it's better)

But you know what?

It's BORING!

I'm not going to say that I wish I had the rumble and tumble and instability and spontaneity of yesteryear. I'm not going to say I wish I had the chance for a do over. I'm not going to say that I wish the world were full of earthquakes and typhoons and storms at hurricanes and cyclones and whatnot. I'm not going to say that I wish I was so unsure of what tomorrow will bring and wish I regretted every action of a single day.

I guess I just did. But I don't wish for it. I'm not that stupid. I still know what it felt like. I can still see my scars. I can still smell the fetid stench. I can still feel the unfulfillment and bitterness.

Funny, how the grass always seems greener as the saying goes. I guess its but human to feel this way. Or is it more than that? Why does what society deem to be appreciable and good and applaudable in general not cater to the basest of my human concepts of happiness and contentment? It's like, right now at this very moment, I'm lost in the wave of a stereotype, as opposed to me being myself when society in general touted me as a misanthrope. I was a failure when I felt good, and now that I'm feeling miserable and unfulfilled, I'm some sort of prodigal son who returned to the light. Isn't it ironic?

...or, again, is it more than that...?

I don't know, it seems I can't even hope to know... but i see my actions now and it disgusts me to no end that I could ever be so... unimaginative... so conformist... so sheeplike... so jaded... so grown up

reality bites

"you say I only hear what I want to, you say I talk so all the time..."

mauve angelus dreamt on* 5:54 AM