Once upon a time, the stars were not the limit and the sky was not too high. What happened to the youthful bliss.
Today I am having my mini quarter life crisis (assuming I live to 104
.) Anyway, back to my point. I remember just short of four years ago, the whole world was mine and if there was such thing as perfection, I had it. I was happy, I saw the world ahead of me for the conquering. I saw this amazing life. I had pure and unadulterated love in both my hands.
It's both a little amazing and a lot scary how much your ideals can change in such a short period of time. I think this morning the idealist in me died and a realist was born. Some say this is good, but I really think it's not. I'm a Libran you see and Libras need balance in everything in their lives. It's not an exaggeration, everything has to make sense. Everything is black and white. When the idealist dies, even that one little bit of me that was reserved to allow for grey and unknowns also dies.
I realized this morning that I am extremely tired. Like this guy -->
There are reasons I could list, but listing them doesn't make them disappear, so I will save my time. Instead I'll just say that some of the circumstances can be altered, some can be fixed, some, I suppose, if I ignore long enough might even go away. Now...
here's the realist speaking,
"how do you quantify the time you allow for this phenomenon?"
The once idealist (which also spawned a severe optimist) would have just said,
"have faith".
The realist asks,
"In what?"
Hm.
So I'm left to dream in techni-colours, in a blur, in a hopeless hope that maybe the idealist might awake and the realist calm itself.
Maybe.
No comments:
Post a Comment