Growing Up(Sep 1st, 2015 at 07:55:21 PM)
I spent the early years of my life with my parents, first together, then apart, with summers in YMCA daycare mingling with other children like someone at a work event marveling at the metamorphosis others undergo when no longer withholding the unspoken swear words brought to life by figures of authority. Later on I spent months sitting in a dark room writing rhyming poems for pretty girls and blogging about the moral convictions I was only just forming. I listened to Alanis Morissette to feed my teen-aged elitist hippie bullshit because the only poems I wrote that were any good were accusations of inferiority and where I stood relative to it. I've always obsessed over my perspective. I'm always two steps ahead of myself. I didn't mind being unwaveringly analytical. I still don't. In college I stopped being the less-than-innocent bystander and became just another guilty party. It's funny how some new friends, a cute girl, and a change of plans can make people-watching enjoyable again. It's funny how missing old friends can subconsciously change from something worth traveling for to a recalculation of priorities and a mass reclassification program. the adults were all right, college friends are the ones you keep. But they never mentioned the struggle of explicitly de-prioritizing the old to make way for the new. Or maybe I'm just more analytical than them. Am I more cold-hearted for making a choice while others seem to just let it all fall away without notice? Are we all struggling with this and just making excuses? I wonder if knowing the answer would make a difference. I wonder if getting older really changes things or if we just get too blunt to tell the truth.