Over the years, my understanding of this very subject has been vague and somewhat shallow.
I erroneously believed that drinking and smoking made me cool, and that I was already an adult. But as I dived head first into the murky waters of genuine adulthood, I’ve truly understood the actual meaning of it, and to my utter disdain, it’s rather morbid and depressing.
Bills Don’t Pay Themselves
Being an adult means going to work every morning in a crowded train, with the odours of your fellow commuters in excruciating accompaniment. Then you reach your office and proceed with the mundane and seemingly inane chores of your work, for 9 hours. And you can’t quit, because you’re an adult now and those bills aren’t going to pay themselves.
And so the cycle continues again the next day, this goes on every weekday. The weeks slowly pass you by, then the months, then the years.
Ran Out of Time
And then one day, you wake up and just sit on the edge of your bed. The realization hits you like a freight train – you’re old now, the past few decades have passed seemingly unnoticed. You’ve lost a huge, meaningless chunk of your life to working and paying off your bills. You’ve neglected your friends and everyone you used to socialize with. You go to work and come home to an empty house, the emptiness further hollows the harrowing void you feel wreaking all kinds of havoc inside your soul and the silence is stabbingly deafening.
You’re old and alone.
Oh How I’ve Missed Yesteryear
The people you used to spend your time with heroically emptying beer after beer, sharing raucous bouts of blissful laughter and being an irreplaceable part of your happiest days are gone. As the years passed, some of them might’ve been dead by now and you wouldn’t even know because just like the comforting howling winds that wash across your face as you hurry into your office, it went unnoticed – the years have been unforgivingly relentless.
But it has finally dawned on me that that is the whole point of being an adult, it’s depressing and lonely.
And the happiest days of our lives were in fact our childhood, where the only worries we had were what color of crayons we were gonna use or which candy bar we wanted to lick.
Blissfully ignorant and unaware of the pains of adulthood. We were in such a desperate hurry to grow up, it is truly a shame and a painful waste of the rapturous wonders of our youth.
And when we finally grew up, it didn’t quite turn out to be what we expected.