Well then, what would I be?
I'm wondering about growing up. People keep debating about whether it's this on-going process, but if that's the case, when does one cease being a boy and start being a man? Are the terms irrelevant? Is one a man or a woman from the moment that their born, regardless of their development? From the standards of what it means to be a man, as I've come to understand them, it seems I've acheive most of the rites of passage, living on my own, become independant enough that I can live, in a space, by myself, where I can provide for myself and subside by myself. But so much of what I do is what would be regarded as "less than a man". My boyish fantasies of living beyond myself, of progression, of anything other than the need to mate and provide and build and die, these are all silly, adolescent things.
Which, naturally, makes me wonder, are all those that progress, that change things in the world, are they all only boys? Are all great men only just boys in the end?
So, this is where all these people come in. All the people I've surrounded myself with, who are connected through me, in some sense. It would seem, at this point, that that is the only service I provide. I'm a conduit, through kindness ond consideration, the attempt to be a decent human being, the sort of person that can be enjoyed and discarded, and that's where my usefulness ends. I'm... I'm just sick to death of being disposable. As of right now, I'm primed to be passed over, and I can't stand that. I'm ready, at this point, to make an impact on these people, even if it's negative. After all, a negative impact will last, for the remainder of their lives, where this worthless attempt at reason, at kindness, at civility and respect, will only just die and fade in the end. I feel like it's time for me to be a villian, if I'm to be anything, or I'll be... nothing, to all these people that I've cared so much about. And that idea seems horrible to me. I can't stand it. I love them all so much, I would almost rather have them hate me than to have myself fade from their memory.
So... what would I be?
I'm wondering about growing up. People keep debating about whether it's this on-going process, but if that's the case, when does one cease being a boy and start being a man? Are the terms irrelevant? Is one a man or a woman from the moment that their born, regardless of their development? From the standards of what it means to be a man, as I've come to understand them, it seems I've acheive most of the rites of passage, living on my own, become independant enough that I can live, in a space, by myself, where I can provide for myself and subside by myself. But so much of what I do is what would be regarded as "less than a man". My boyish fantasies of living beyond myself, of progression, of anything other than the need to mate and provide and build and die, these are all silly, adolescent things.
Which, naturally, makes me wonder, are all those that progress, that change things in the world, are they all only boys? Are all great men only just boys in the end?
So, this is where all these people come in. All the people I've surrounded myself with, who are connected through me, in some sense. It would seem, at this point, that that is the only service I provide. I'm a conduit, through kindness ond consideration, the attempt to be a decent human being, the sort of person that can be enjoyed and discarded, and that's where my usefulness ends. I'm... I'm just sick to death of being disposable. As of right now, I'm primed to be passed over, and I can't stand that. I'm ready, at this point, to make an impact on these people, even if it's negative. After all, a negative impact will last, for the remainder of their lives, where this worthless attempt at reason, at kindness, at civility and respect, will only just die and fade in the end. I feel like it's time for me to be a villian, if I'm to be anything, or I'll be... nothing, to all these people that I've cared so much about. And that idea seems horrible to me. I can't stand it. I love them all so much, I would almost rather have them hate me than to have myself fade from their memory.
So... what would I be?