Sunday, September 24, 2006
Mature adult life isn't about Polyanna prescriptions for happiness. It isn't about there being a perfect way to live and love and be that is out there if only you can find it. Mature life is about failure and compromise, making the same mistakes over and over again; it's about looking in the mirror in the morning and seeing a lousy human being staring back at you. It's about f**king over the people you care about, and being f**ked over in turn; and realising that you had no choice in the matter, and neither do they. It's about diminishing returns, the death of idealism, the end of your fantasies, nothing ever working out the way you expect it to. It's about just being alive, a living, semi-functioning organism with arms and legs who has nothing to offer expect a smile (or a sneer), and a bed in the spare room when you've nowhere else to go. And until you can accept that there's no more to life than that, then sonny, you will never grow up.
Posted by Bruce Hodder at Sunday, September 24, 2006