Growing Up

I remember the times when I was simple and playful. When I looked at the news I wondered what color was the anchorman's tie. When I saw my parents react to 9/11, and they cried, I would answer, "Its just a movie.". I remember the times when I would play with my toys and eat my food like a hog as my mother laughed and taught me how to properly eat. When I rode in the backseat and pretended we were traversing the seven seas and yelled to my mother of the pirate ships passing us. The best of times when I tied a blanket around my neck and ran against the wind, headed towards the imaginary city that called for my name, "INCREDIBLE SAMSON!"
Its funny. I hardly remember that boy in my memories. He looks just like me too. My name is David. I remember my young years quite well, just not the boy experiencing them. I Do remember the man who dreamed of f*****g every woman who made him feel special. I still do. I remember The man who fell in that thing called love that is all the rave in every media. How fucked up I am now. If I open my chest and happen to see my soul there I would hardly recognize it with so many scars. I feel sometimes like I have horns growing on my forehead. This hate I feel. It seems to leave no one out of its range. Nor does it seem to have a stomach. I thought a few times maybe if I wounded my wrist and let the life ooze out, empty myself of whatever poison that ruins me, that would be that. But I see oblivion holds no better offer.
Maybe I should turn to god? Live as a happy delusion, or an empty intellectual? Another crisis for the list.
Lets see....that makes problem number.....86. The crap keeps piling up.
Maybe I should help the solution? Be a politician, or a missionary? Yeah and just pretend like the problems we clean up wont come back in a few years. Diverse world equals clashing desires equals eternal suffering. And nobody seems to notice this equation. I'm at a loss. Even my imaginary therapist is at a loss. He just sits there. continually smoking his cigarettes. He looks a lot like Tom Hardy for some reason.
" What?" He says.
Not even a," Its gonna be okay." is gonna remedy this. No wonder he is so quite. I'm pretty much lost in the pursuit of happiness. I wish I could find an answer, but here I am...at the end of this confession. No solution. Not even some philosophical statement of acceptance. Well.........I guess that's it.

Reviews

[Yheela]

That's it, really.
Great write, stream of consciousness, which I find difficult.
Impressive.

[Speak in Silence]

wow, this has so much emotion, and feeling put into this. I love how you flashed back to the past. great work :)