How?
How did it all stop making sense?
When we were kids, everything was so simple. So smooth. So easy. We played. We laughed. We cried. All without the slightest effort. Everything just flowed naturally. We lived the moment in its fullest sense. We felt like we controlled the world yet our powers were limited. The simplest littlest things made us so happy. Candy. Finding all your friends when playing hide and seek (or 3adnan wa Lina like we called it in our neighborhood). Waking up in the morning and finding out that there's no school today because it's been snowing all night. A bag of chips. New skates. Everything made perfect sense. Everything fell right in its place. Yes we got upset at times but that was always easily overcome. No worries. No responsibilities. No void. But childhood is now nothing but a distant and vague memory. Trying to recall those times makes me feel like an old man trying to remember the face of the girl he fell in love with when he was just a teenager, so distant and fuzzy yet so sweet and vivid.
We grow up. Everything stops being so simple. We realize that our parents are not always right. That babies are not a wedding gift from God to married couples. That not everyone lives like we do. That some people will try to knock you down when they're jealous of you. That sometimes nothing makes sense and that has to make sense to us or else we're doomed. That we have to accept everything that we're told blindly without questioning or arguing. That things are what they are and there is no room for positive change. That happiness is nothing but a mirage that you think you are close to getting but in reality it's not even there. That when you really think about it, you have no control over your life whatsoever. That we are turning into slaves to appearances, to the shadows of appearances, to the shadows of shadows of appearances. That being an adult means darkness, lies, cheating, cunning, and surviving through taking advantage of people. That life is nothing but a series of chaotic unorganized random events. That just when you start believing that you have a plan everything falls apart right on your head. That loneliness is just an unavoidable fact of life. That no matter what you do, you will always feel that void inside that never seems to be filled. That we are always jealous of those who "seem" to be happier than we are. That sometimes we like to lie to ourselves by saying "I have everything under control". That nothing is ever good enough. That we always seem to be wanting more of everything. That we always want to be someone else. Someone with more money. Better looks. Better life. Wiser. Cleverer. But we are never satisfied with the way we are. And nothing in our lives makes sense anymore.
We're Adults. When did this happen? And how do we make it stop?
