Growing Up

This is it. Right here. Life as an adult. As a child I thought of adulthood as some distant kingdom where knowledge grew from trees that I would someday reach, if I tried hard enough to get there. My expectations were fantasy, the kingdom an illusion. I have reached the magic age. Nothing is different, nothing is the same.

Peter Pan and his lost boys are deserving of envy. Growing up is not an easy task. The world would be a better place if we were not forced to do it. Adults used to seem like such mysterious perfect beings, so…. together. Now that I am one I realize that everyone I ever looked up to was pretending to be the person they wanted others to see. Adults live in fear. The fear that someone will call them out, see through their facade, point and laugh at the small, lost child hiding behind the mask they have created for themselves. We are all faking it and pretending not to notice that everyone else is doing the same. It’s funny in the same way that a sad clown is funny: Not at all.

It’s as if I have been running a race my entire life, and finally reached the finish line, only to find that it has been running ahead of me the whole time, and is further from sight than when I had started.

I am still me, more than ever. I try to remember the steps I took to get here, but when I look back, the past is a hazy blur. Living in the moment is hard to do when reality is so irreconcilable with what I had thought it was to be. But life goes on. My heart beats, I take another breath, and I continue dreaming.


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