view from my apartment. it was half past 12, and it was already starting to get dark. (the picture might deceive you a little bit, but I swear it gets dark in Edinburgh by quarter/half past 3, and yesterday it started sooner than expected).
once upon a time, the world may have been a mysterious place. once upon a time, you may have been full of fascination for what seemed to be a ‘wish-granting factory’. but one day, you woke up and your fascination seemed to have run away somewhere.
the “reality” woke you up from your dreamy and hallucinatory and celestial cocoon of countless possibilities. the reality woke you up, nudging you gently at first, and then jolting you.
the weight of heartbreaks, toxic and hateful politics, the countless -isms, the critics and the haters, practicalities, the drudgery of everyday life, assignments, deadlines, boredom, ‘been-there-done-that’, the jarring noise in your head, the responsibilities and the chores, and the old, ambitious rat-race—have they all made you cynical and wary of love and people? have they scared and scarred your passionate inner child and made her hideaway somewhere? so much so that once you hated borders, now you yourself have built thick walls around you?
the damned ‘world-weariness’, perhaps, captures the story of so many lives. they just sugar-coat it and call it growing up.