As a youngster I can vividly remember the essence of hope. That carefree attitude that you carry as a child and young adult.
Everything and anything are possible at that time.
I'd go to school and learn about outer space, or geographical locations that I'd never heard of.
I'd see shows on TV that had all sorts of families, all sorts of houses, professions, superpowers or ungodly amounts of money.
Remember the movie Richie Rich with McCauley Culkin?...
Fuck I loved that movie.
His house was the absolute bomb!!
His room...
All the gadgets and stuff...
Rollercoaster in the backyard...
...Swimming pool...
...He even had a McDonalds in his house!
I used to watch that and drool. lol.
The sort of stuff that dreams are made of you know.
.....
Its humbling as you get older, and you come to realize that those things really are make believe.
I tend to see little children running around and these days think to myself, 'ha, they don't even know what's coming.'
No comprehension for the fact that life is shit and they will more than likely be crushed into the ground with every bit of growth they undertake through adulthood...
...Cynical? Yes.
Realistic? Also, yes.
You grow up knowing so many people, so many classmates, parties, popularity and having groups of friends, to being LUCKY to have 1 or 2 people you can depend on later in life.
The transition is actually quite astonishing when you think about it.
Things are put into perspective and we as people are forced to decide what's important and what's not...
......
Sometimes that even includes telling the important things that they don't really matter...
They say that with growth comes change, so maybe this is all just part of the change?
The heartache, the pain, the darkness, the unknown...
It must just all be part of the process...
....
I really do hate that though. The idea that this is my path... that some higher power had this plan for me...
What sort of a plan is this!?
The sort of plan that destroys lives and souls.
The sort of despair that leaves the lonely abandoned.
My take is that the plan is shit...
It's ironic that as a 35-year-old I still fight back against the church and complain.
When I was in primary school, I had to make my confirmation because it was compulsory in a Catholic school.
Part of this included picking a patron saint to align with.
I chose, with the guidance of my parents, St. Thomas.
Also known as Doubting Thomas.
He was "Doubting" Thomas because he doubted Jesus and his works and miracles.
He doubted his purity, and intent.
I was literally 10 years old, maybe younger at the time, and it still applies to me today.
Incredible...
...Doubting Thomas still lives...
Although my world is quieter now, and my mind clearer than ever, I still see things in an opaque grey most of the time.
Not black and white, just somewhere in the middle.
Things are not quite visible, but they're also not quite gone.
They just live there, beyond my horizon, an inch or so beyond my reach.
I have so many tales to tell...
...imagine what they'll say when I finally speak...
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