food for thought, philosophy

Being “an adult” about things

What is being an adult anyway?

Is it when you are not in your teens anymore? Is it when you start being “responsible”?

Is it when you shed off your fantasies and get real about things? (Get real! Now what is that supposed to mean?)

Is it when you grow a little selfish and start thinking more about your welfare?

Is it when you grow impervious to what others feel?  Is it when you grow impervious to your own feelings? Denial! Acceptance! Blah blah blah. Papa heart please don’t preach me.

Is it when you realize all your dreams were so stupid? Or is it when you realize that they are actually quite real!

Is it when you are swimming in and out of the zone of frustration all the time? Is it when you just don’t care anymore?

Is it when you give up on the idea of romance and soul mates? Or is it when you really put an effort to make your idea of love come true?

Is it when you learn to live with the noise and the hullabaloo around? Or is it when you pursue silence and want the whole world to shut the hell up!

Is it when you begin to appreciate imperfections or is it when you start working hard to eliminate them?

What is being adult anyway?

The reason that I am asking this question is that I have realized that I suck at making decisions. I literally have no backbone of my own. And I am awfully juvenile. And I think the solution for this is – being “adult” about things.

But you know what my fucking problem is! –  I don’t know things.

I am awfully confused and lost. I am an aimless dreamer who is hoping her dreams would come true even with her ass glued to the sofa and the fingers  engaged in an unconscious act of scrolling through the facebook newsfeed all the time…
Ah! How typical of me!
I look at somebody’s life and I am like- “Wow! He has got it all figured out. He has such maturity that I could just drown in envy.”

How terribly wrong I am!
And yet… Even after knowing the very fact…
Growing up is a misleading term. It’s so wrong at so many levels. I feel I was more “mature” when I hadn’t even entered my teens.

What is it? Another one of my grumpy days? Ugh.

No, it’s not another one of my grumpy days actually. Yes, I wish I could shut the whole world right now but well…I can’t.

At this point of time my brain is like – Why do you want to be an adult? If it’s so confusing then just leave it! Like seriously! Dude!

My brain is a pretty chilled out guy. He needs no alcohol. He needs no weed. He is like so high and so at ease ALL THE TIME.

I hate my brain.
My own body doesn’t share half of my feelings with me!

Why do I want to be an adult? Well, because if I am really an adult I think my life would be better. I would take wiser decisions. Make good choices. Have things all figured out.

But that is not being an adult is all about? Is it?
Damn it!

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