Age.

One of my pet topics again, yes, but just posting what I actually noted in the train ride back from paris the day after my birthday, and expanding a little on it. Well, quite a little, I have to admit.

It is as if once we hit adulthood, we are somehow blessed with excellent reasoning, have an infinite capacity to think rationally (hence saddled with immense responsibility), and are allowed to run free with our deluded minds aren't we? I am 23 today and still feel I am but a day older than I was 5 years ago. Granted, I have been to more parts of the world than perhaps many might dream of - and I am not being pretentious or 'elitist', if you will, in saying so - yet, I feel I have merely dissected and accumulated what I have seen, heard and experienced; it has but piled on layers upon layers of artificial guises with which to switch on(and off) in times of necessity. Looking from far, you might term this 'maturity'; at certain angles, it might seem as if these layers of textured dispositions have all but blended into my 'personality', and are thus indications of growth, literally and metaphorically (for I have gained weight, and it shows as such on my pudgy face) - have I really grasped the complexities of human interaction, though? Have I gained some insights into the meaning of life, the marvellous nature of our souls, the way this self-imposed farce of a thing we call society works?

I cannot say I have. For what I have been through thus far is just a sheltered, watered-down version of a life gone 'right'; I have absolutely no idea how Johnny feels in his 9-5 job he deems a chore, I do not know why that teenage girl wants to commit suicide, I can only imagine what it feels like to be in a different environment, only try to listen, empathise, and perhaps take off my masks - just for the moment - to feel for a fellow human being. And I have not listened enough. Try as I might, I have too often forgotten that the world is larger than myself, that we are all but tiny creatures that roam the corners of this Earth, and that everyone has a life story to tell.

And of course I haven't figured out a way to join the billionaires' club without joining the workforce.

Hmm I think I've gone off tangent, so I shall stop here. OK I have to confess I actually wrote only up till '5 years ago' in the train, and somehow squeezed out some cheem-looking words from the nether regions of my brain. Well technically not the nether regions, it's more like the back (and front coordinating as well), but we shall not delve into neuroscience now shall we? ;)

I guess what I was trying to say is that I don't believe adults necessarily make better decisions than hot-headed testosterone-fuelled teenagers (and not just in the realm of relationships), I guess we just learn to accept what is fashionable in our societies at certain moments in time, and act accordingly, don't we? Oh and we learn to crave for new toys, big and small. But definitely more expensive.

(I could go on to rant about commercialism, but again, I shall refrain myself from doing so.)

So yeah. What defines an adult? Is it merely age? Are we losing our way, and becoming over-aged kids with cash to spare? Can we justify the crap we dispense to those junior to us? So many questions, yet left unanswered, with nearly a quarter of my life gone already.