The option of surrendering to paranoia (or not, which should make this very obvious)

I'm a 20-year-old male, and society has a lot of expectations for me. For one, I should be mature.

I should be sensitive to what others feel, but not too sensitive to exhibit weakness.

I should exhibit strength of will, a determination to see things through, a perspective rooted in reality but never losing sight of what's ahead.

I should not be swayed by past mistakes, instead treating them as the best way to improve everything when the right time comes.

Obviously, I am in the wrong spot.

I am far from mature. I have issues, most unsolved, lingering instead through an unexplainable mix of anger and disillusionment. I prefer, or at least inevitably, dwell on the past, taking pains to remember what I considered as the best of times, and throwing punches at things that have hurt me, not recognizing the distance, nor the fact that I'm not punching anything.

I am sensitive. Too sensitive, perhaps. I agonize over the smallest mistakes, and I try to work out how to reverse them, oblivious to the fact that they are, indeed, irreversible. I am affected by the smallest things, letting the tiniest of particles interact with me until small spots in my body grow and become bruises that are painful when touched. And yet I look to be touched, to be affected, just to get myself through.

I am very close to giving up.

And the irony is, I still return. I said I won't entertain you and your thoughts; I wouldn't bother finding out what you're up to and what you've been, but the world has collapsed, and I have nowhere else to go. Better go with a stranger than go with those who have scorned you outright, or secretly, to their beliefs. I still long for something that I've tagged as unattainable. I give up, and I return.

I hate comparing myself to you, but I am left with no choice. The world, after all, is against me. I've gotten into arguments so many times. I should stop believing that crap, they say, because it isn't true, and it's just me and my squiggly thoughts, and things will get better in time. And yet you say I should see things like I should be. As a man. As society dictates. And for someone who doesn't really have a choice - an idea of how to get things working - the only option is to try figuring out how it actually works out.

That's where you come in.

I want to take things in stride, with nary a fuss, pretty much like you do on a daily basis. A click on the mouse, a few taps on the keyboard, a disinterested look as you stand up and walk away, as you always do, every single day. A perspective that's marred with stoicism, unless when you have to. Or, at the very least, the ability to hide behind intimidation, or laughter, or whatever it is. That's what they're asking for, after all. The talent, or better yet, the ability, to hide yourself in order to keep everything working.

Instead, I'm here wondering about what I've done and what I should've done. Or what I didn't do. Or what I really want. Or whether this will all be worth it, whether you're just not interested, or outright annoyed, or just taking it in stride.

It's not you I really want. It's being you.

In the end, you get the conversation and I don't. Society rewards silence. Or hypocrisy.

And your responses...

"I prefer, or at least inevitably, dwell on the past,"

I feel the same.

"I am very close to giving up."

You know laminin? So don't.

Blogger N.2/28/2009     

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