A meaningless race with time…

Published August 13, 2013 by angrytinkerbell

The day we are born, marks the start of a race, a race with time.

When you are still a child, you don’t acknowledge it, everybody stop their race in order to give you attention, realize your existence, value you with the proper importance.

Then, comes a major happening that changes everything and triggers your race. A new kid in the house, someone who takes attention from you. Or if you’re a single child? It’s just adolescence…. where people around you decide all of a sudden you’re a grown up now, and should behave like it.

After that?! The electrocuted-shocks start. No one has prepared you smoothly for it. You’re left alone in a jungle of chaos, where you have to lead battles on your own.

In my case, childhood was a happy memory, it lasted long since i was the last one in the family. No other kid came and took the attention from me. My parents decided i became a grown up at the age of 8. They didn’t wait for me to reach my adolescence even. It was on my birthday, when they just decided that I’m old enough not to deserve a home made cake. That night marked the most dramatic crying my life have ever witnessed.

The second day, my race has started. I was on my own now. No toys for me anymore. Fuck that shit. Everybody around me was doing the effort to run, and run, and run, they were so quick, i couldn’t follow up with them, they had bigger legs, I lived an early adolescence. The 12 to 16 quartet of years, came for me 4 years earlier. Back then, i was not familiar with revolution. I adapted silently. I sucked it well, no loudness, no rebellion. I was not about to retaliate.

In those four years, i unconsciously developed a Zen mode, one that hid the highest rates of anger and frustration. I was a grown up as they told me, i was gonna be responsible of my acts and thoughts, no one to share my multi-headed crisis with, in those 4 years, i grew a billion muscle to excel my race, i was not planning to be late.

By the age of 12, i already finished my race on the front lines, 1st ranks, my non seeking of attention drew all the attention for me, yet no one really understood what was it that they were being attentive for.

By the age of 12, i recognized myself as a higher form of life, i started giving attention to others, i took care of them, you know those others who just started their battle, i felt their pain, i felt the obligation of consoling them, being by their side, treating their injuries, easing their suffering, calming their revolution, and backing their rebellion.

I mastered calmness, one that has rage behind it, a rage coming out of what i had to endure, what those people that i cared about had to endure 4 years after.

Seeing them struggling have tought me the hard lesson: “Life is not fair”. That is a fact. I couldn’t just accept that. I refused.

By the age of 18, i was a very grown up man, i had to change my conception of life. I refused to accept that race, i lost interest in racing, racing for others, and their conceptions, and their idiocies.

Everyone was preaching me about life, how we should live it, what are the primary goals in it. As a rational human being and a sharp observer, i was looking hard to find what joins all of those preachers, nothing. Well not quite, the only thing that joined them, was that they were all unhappy people.

The result was not an answer for my original question, It just didn’t make any logical sense, Yet i was in front of a result, some result that i couldn’t ignore. Those were all people participating in the race, And they were unhappy. For me it was clear i couldn’t live the way they lived.

That day i lowered down my weapons against them. They were just pitiful grown ups. Acting as if they knew where they were heading, and efficiently had no clue what the fuck they were doing. Once again, i felt like a higher form of life, this time in the grown ups world.

Maybe that was my triumphant race. I passed it, and discovered that it was all valueless, i was lucky i discovered it at a very young age. A discovery that a friend of mine witnessed very late, after his mother died, and he started recognizing time passing, and felt the non importance of everything he pursued through a non meaningful life.

For many, that same date marked the beginning of my revolution, while for me it was simply a withdrawal of that race, a race that led no one, nowhere.

race

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