When I was young, there was one discourse that I then picked up all the time and became a part of me, as if engraved in stone: “Those who see the effort will always get what they deserve.” But this world has taught me that those who see trouble can also run into a stone wall, and this blow can even break their bones.
As a child, it constantly dreams of being older, as well as growing up to make its own voice heard better in the world and be able to do big things. Because it thought it was doing something significant and changing the world. And at the time, it was not some degree of expression of a deeply simmering narcissism, but a faith that grew in an innocence that only a child can understand.
It’s easy to be happy when things go well when calmness has wrapped you in your arms. A serenity that can only be seen by a child’s naive eyes in a world full of people who pretend to live as well as you see in the movies. When it is inappropriate to complain and be human. When the tyranny of happiness has completely taken over every corner of your life.
But it grows into an adult
But then it grows into adulthood, and nothing is the same as it once was. What you thought before has turned into an absurd belief in an unfair world. A nonsensical thought that ruled your life and is now a rope wrapped tightly around your chest that makes breathing almost impossible.
It grows into an adult, and you don’t even know who you are anymore, because the possibilities have somehow unnoticed become impossible. Because what a child dreams of seems to be light years away, and no longer within their own hands. It grows into adulthood and you find that the effort is associated with suffering that often goes completely unrewarded.
It grows into an adult and becomes hurt, as well as rebuking itself for things that it doesn’t even understand, but which hurt the deepest parts of the soul. Because sometimes the words we say to ourselves are silent cries that bind us to the guilt we feel that comes from losing our own innocence.
It grows into adulthood and finds that magic does not exist, that reason tries to rule in a world where nonsense feeds the egos of those who have been endowed with the toxic gift of an easy life who have never had to see any effort in front of anyone .
And then it feels disappointing, both to itself and to loved ones. It feels like it was unnecessarily naive in the past and gave up in the present, allowing itself to be carried by that self-binding rope that seemed so perfect as a child.
But it decides not to stop dreaming
But it decides not to stop dreaming. It decides not to look for a cause or blame for the past and accept its own responsibility for the future. It concludes that when blinded by the bright lights of injustice, one will probably not find a path that leads to shelter in search of one’s own place in the world.
It decides to rise from the ashes like a phoenix bird, shed the ashes from its neck, and fly its head high above a sea of hesitation into which it had become immersed when it lost its innocence. When you stopped being a child reading stories, instead of becoming the protagonist of your own story.
It decides to take the helm of its own ship, even if it is traveling against the current. Even the waves caused by other people sparked reproaches and resentments on their faces that reflect their own frustrations. Because it has learned to be invincible if you really fight for what you want.
And while the clock is still there somewhere and is ticking against itself because it has still not come to find its own place in the world, it knows it is all worth the effort in this life to be hard to find, and even harder to achieve and possess.
And it knows how to answer an important question: Is life shitty? Yes, but it has already been learned from this, and this in turn offers a trump card. This trump card belongs to all those who fight, dream, and persevere, who do not give up, who take every precarious step forward passionately, who continue their journey even when they are frightened. Because, well, this is life.