Growing up is so strange , On the threshold of permanent adulthood and yet I feel so wronged , condemned ,though mortified at what I can only expect from here on.
Sounds like something Id say to myself after my 4th standard annual exams.
or maybe its what I also thought after my 4th sem exam papers (again !)
Paradoxically , this continual floating of sequential causes and effects , and dreams and disappointments , and work and wisdom , and vacuums and visions , and time and terror seems only to bring my observance right back to infancy .
How good or bad this is , Im not so sure . It sort of maintains this wide eyed wonder everytime I finish another leg of the human marathon . It also reaffirms how pointless and sadistic real world mechanisms are. Why so again , Im not sure.
Or so Id like to say
So what if I stopped growing up ? or rather , stopped 'feeling' like I was growing up ? or like I had yet to ? I could then maintain this constance of infinite periodicity.I could then watch the world as it would fluidly seem to render in growing disinterest as I stood neatly in the centre of personal perfection. I could then stay the way I am in belief of the completion of state.
I dont know about you , but that would potentially destroy me.
Im pathetic i know , but at least better off than schwarzenegger's vowels
