[Note that this is a re-post of a really old blog post of mine]
I find myself metamorphosing into something harder and colder. No longer the romantic fool. No longer the playful child who stared awed at the world. No longer the fool who set out to conquer fate with the power of the heart. Humility. A lesson that was slapped onto my face. That man is NOT all conquering. That there are ALWAYS things bigger than you. I have stared at the stars many a time, feeling small, but with wonder. Now I feel small. Insignificant. If I can’t even control my own fate, how dare I be arrogant to think I can change the world.
I have been reclusive a lot in my life. Now it seems I am becoming more so. Social webs shrink unless you weave them often. Looks like I am drawing myself into a shell. At least the core of me is. There is a person before the eyes of the people I know. They see me. They do not see the inside of me. No one has ever. Not fully. Now I know, now I see, that it would forever remain that way.
I have stopped questioning why I am the way I am. I have changed bits and parts of me, but the core of me remains the same. Can I change it? Do I want to change it?
Surrounded by love, I know that this cynicism doesnt become me. Yet, there is more, there is more screaming within, than there is smiling without.
Why?