Some thoughts...
Sometimes I wonder: what does it mean to be an adult? We like to say that childhood is a time of innocence. Of explorations. Of happiness... But how many of us actually had childhoods like that? I don't know about you, but there was no innocence in my childhood. Not for long. I had to fight. I had to take responsibility for my own life. Childhood is precious... or maybe I just think so because I didn't get one to some extent.
We are the lost souls. But what have we lost? And why are we lost? I can only wonder. Lost souls have no solid foundations to stand on. We lack that proper childhood on which most people build their lives.
Do I have moral standards? Some might say I do. Others would say that my morals are not governed by outside influences, like most peoples. We define morals by our society... supposedly. But it could be said that I do what I think it right. I have no remorse that I killed certain people. There is only the fear that I am like them. There is guilt. Not for taking their lives, though I realize no human should really have this power to take a life. The guilt is more that I couldn't do more to stop them. That I got so wrapped up in it. That I dragged down those I care about with me. I regret the encompasing darkness, but not the act itself. Am I an immoral person?
The darkness still lingers. I can feel it and smell it and taste it. But that's a discussion for another time. This discussion is about childhood.
I guess my question is: when you have little concept of childhood as it is envisioned, can you live adulthood as it's envisioned? Who is to say that the accepted model for adults is the right one? Can we not define the new model? Aren't we adults now? This sums it up well.
So they say it's childish... what does that mean? I do not understand. To me, being a child meant being weak and hesitant. It meant doing things because I was told to do them without question and without truly understanding the consequences or the severity of my actions. It meant trusting that the things I knew were right. But then, childhood does not end at nine. So I suppose it meant not hiding the pain as well. It meant damning myself to revenge. Childhood as it evolved meant being responsible for my own life.
You associate that with adulthood. But part of childhood is learning and growing. I was still learning and growing when picked up the so-called "hero" streak. But we all know that I was no hero, like I wasn't really much of an expected child. And I'm not quite an expected adult either. I don't do normal things. I don't fit in the normal mode. There's no white picket fence and 2.5 offspring for me. There's a job... sort of. But it's not the be all and end all. Goals are ill defined.
I don't know where I'm going. I don't really want to know. I've known in the past and it turned out different than I expected or wanted. There are suggestions I should try something different out. It crops up every once in a while. I know you want what's best for me. You want me to be happy. You expect normal things to make me happy. But I'm still too damaged for that. I'll probably always be.
My childhood wasn't normal. Why should my adult life be normal? For that matter, what is normal? And should anyone's life be normal? Or is it ok to do or be something different?
We are the lost souls. But what have we lost? And why are we lost? I can only wonder. Lost souls have no solid foundations to stand on. We lack that proper childhood on which most people build their lives.
Do I have moral standards? Some might say I do. Others would say that my morals are not governed by outside influences, like most peoples. We define morals by our society... supposedly. But it could be said that I do what I think it right. I have no remorse that I killed certain people. There is only the fear that I am like them. There is guilt. Not for taking their lives, though I realize no human should really have this power to take a life. The guilt is more that I couldn't do more to stop them. That I got so wrapped up in it. That I dragged down those I care about with me. I regret the encompasing darkness, but not the act itself. Am I an immoral person?
The darkness still lingers. I can feel it and smell it and taste it. But that's a discussion for another time. This discussion is about childhood.
I guess my question is: when you have little concept of childhood as it is envisioned, can you live adulthood as it's envisioned? Who is to say that the accepted model for adults is the right one? Can we not define the new model? Aren't we adults now? This sums it up well.
So they say it's childish... what does that mean? I do not understand. To me, being a child meant being weak and hesitant. It meant doing things because I was told to do them without question and without truly understanding the consequences or the severity of my actions. It meant trusting that the things I knew were right. But then, childhood does not end at nine. So I suppose it meant not hiding the pain as well. It meant damning myself to revenge. Childhood as it evolved meant being responsible for my own life.
You associate that with adulthood. But part of childhood is learning and growing. I was still learning and growing when picked up the so-called "hero" streak. But we all know that I was no hero, like I wasn't really much of an expected child. And I'm not quite an expected adult either. I don't do normal things. I don't fit in the normal mode. There's no white picket fence and 2.5 offspring for me. There's a job... sort of. But it's not the be all and end all. Goals are ill defined.
I don't know where I'm going. I don't really want to know. I've known in the past and it turned out different than I expected or wanted. There are suggestions I should try something different out. It crops up every once in a while. I know you want what's best for me. You want me to be happy. You expect normal things to make me happy. But I'm still too damaged for that. I'll probably always be.
My childhood wasn't normal. Why should my adult life be normal? For that matter, what is normal? And should anyone's life be normal? Or is it ok to do or be something different?