“When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I felt as a child, I thought as a child. Now that I have become a man, I have put away childish things.”
Now for those of you who know me would probably wonder why in the name of all that is holy and sacred a religion-killer like myself would be quoting something from the bible. Well the matter of fact is simple anyway. When I was a child I did everything that a child would do…then something happened that changed my life as I knew it.
I grew up too fast.
It’s not saying that I’m one of those child prodigies or child stars that grew up having severe psychological issues with their existence. Certainly not. Then again, for some reason I stand in the limbo between those older than me and those that are at my age. It is the price to pay for understanding things beyond your time. It’s definitely a price to pay for trying to consolidate the person you’re supposed to be with the person you made yourself be.
In short, like the quote above, some things in life have to be sacrificed to make way for other things.
The innocence and my social abilities were what I had to give up.
I don’t know. If I had a choice to redo it all over again, I wouldn’t have given up all the books and all the knowledge that I have gained over the years especially in my youth. I wouldn’t have given up the hours and days I spent trying to make trebuchet’s and crossbows out of wood rather than playing with the kids outside. I wouldn’t have given up my Comodore 64 and Nintendo for the swings and monkey bars in the playground.
I wouldn’t have given up the scars for the future I know I can make.
It’s just when you cut yourself off from everyone else that you begin to have that sting of regret that comes with choice. Why can’t I be around the people my age? Why can’t older people take my words and works seriously? Why this and why that all around something you don’t even know how to control. All of it running through your mind so often that you actually understand now why a lot of child prodigies and stars have severe mental issues.
At the rate I’m going, I’m really not far off.
So what’s the point of this? No point really. It’s just been a quietly melancholic 24 hours where I usually realise that in the end there isn’t anyone I can really turn to for any issues that I have. It’s one of those mysteries in life that keeps me baffled and sighing till someone stands by to remind me they are there. Quite a lot like what I usually do with some of you all the time.
I call it narcissistic therapy.
You can call it a knock to the head from a friend who cares.