If Our Hearts Get Torn
I'm only twenty three.
Sometimes, I still remember what it's like. I look back on those days not with fondness, not with any wistfulness. I look back on them as a time that I learned how to live. Being twelve is a hard age no matter who you are. Twelve year olds usually drift towards popularity like a moth to flame. They try so hard to fit in. But you're born in that struggle. Before that, I feel many are blank slates. Oh, childhood shapes a lot, but your mettle forms in those years. Your passion, your desire, your sense of right and wrong outside Disney movies, those are the years that the seeds are planted. You truly learn the consequences of your actions in those years. You learn that in every person, there is a savior and destroyer. It is easy to destroy, it is easy to spread entropy and enmity wherever you go. It is more common for most people to have a knife in their pocket than a first aid kit in their car.
After you're beaten, and shaped, and molded, you're finally cut loose into the world. Some people are eager to grow up, and so they find someone when they turn eighteen and cling to their mate for life. That's okay. It's never easy being alone. Some people build a wall around themselves and leave little room to let anything in besides knowledge. The only true power is knowledge. Some people trapse through a desolate landscape searching, eyes constantly on the horizon, for any sort of sign that they're doing the right thing, that they're on the right path. Nothing concrete ever comes though, so they go through college and graduate school and get diplomas and are lauded with praise. But will they, will I, accept that? There's so much beauty that could never be experienced through a text book. There's so many wondrous visions that can only be seen to ever know what it's really like. Do our lives have room for that? Does my life? Can we possibly see everything this green Earth has to offer for us, is the human condition made to appreciate every hidden celestial corner that nature created? Were humans made to be huddled away in offices, in cubicles, while diagnosing neuroses and listening to nit picky customers wanting a five dollar refund; all the while watching the sun blaze red outside as it slowly climbs down between the distant trees?
When will we learn? When will I learn? When will I realize? Can we, can I, in the time that's granted to me?
I'm only twenty three. And I don't have a clue. And a part of me hopes I never will.
Sometimes, I still remember what it's like. I look back on those days not with fondness, not with any wistfulness. I look back on them as a time that I learned how to live. Being twelve is a hard age no matter who you are. Twelve year olds usually drift towards popularity like a moth to flame. They try so hard to fit in. But you're born in that struggle. Before that, I feel many are blank slates. Oh, childhood shapes a lot, but your mettle forms in those years. Your passion, your desire, your sense of right and wrong outside Disney movies, those are the years that the seeds are planted. You truly learn the consequences of your actions in those years. You learn that in every person, there is a savior and destroyer. It is easy to destroy, it is easy to spread entropy and enmity wherever you go. It is more common for most people to have a knife in their pocket than a first aid kit in their car.
After you're beaten, and shaped, and molded, you're finally cut loose into the world. Some people are eager to grow up, and so they find someone when they turn eighteen and cling to their mate for life. That's okay. It's never easy being alone. Some people build a wall around themselves and leave little room to let anything in besides knowledge. The only true power is knowledge. Some people trapse through a desolate landscape searching, eyes constantly on the horizon, for any sort of sign that they're doing the right thing, that they're on the right path. Nothing concrete ever comes though, so they go through college and graduate school and get diplomas and are lauded with praise. But will they, will I, accept that? There's so much beauty that could never be experienced through a text book. There's so many wondrous visions that can only be seen to ever know what it's really like. Do our lives have room for that? Does my life? Can we possibly see everything this green Earth has to offer for us, is the human condition made to appreciate every hidden celestial corner that nature created? Were humans made to be huddled away in offices, in cubicles, while diagnosing neuroses and listening to nit picky customers wanting a five dollar refund; all the while watching the sun blaze red outside as it slowly climbs down between the distant trees?
When will we learn? When will I learn? When will I realize? Can we, can I, in the time that's granted to me?
I'm only twenty three. And I don't have a clue. And a part of me hopes I never will.