And the dominoes are falling
When I was young, I desperately wanted to be an adult. A decade ago, I became one, and what a glorious run it has been - the freedom, the autonomy, the ability to make my own choices! But now, I am tired. The responsibilities are slowly weighing on my shoulders. I don't want to be a child, go into my past - those were never my glory days. But I am also dreading my present, not because I don't have the things I always dreamt of, but because I do. When the fictional universe declared 'with great freedom comes great responsibility', I never realised what it meant, until now. For the past two months, since the moment I turned twenty seven, a quiet demon has possessed me - I am sad, perpetually sad. Sad because I can't see a future beyond thirty. Sad because the world keeps screaming war at me. Sad because I can't decide if I want to bring new life into this seemingly horrible world. Where is hope? I somehow can't seem to find it. But here we are and this is lif...