Free Form Writing: The Greatest Deception (September 8, 2017)


Is tragedy so common that I am perpetually in a state of or numb to shock? 
I shrug off what does not affect me personally and slip on blinders to release my own guilt at my cavalier manner. 
Yet worry and angst smolder below the surface. 
I fool myself into ignoring, pushing aside and rendering not important events and circumstance that, in fact, make my core being shudder. 
I know not how to cope with the things that I cannot control and therefore find a false and treacherous sense of solace in turning a blind eye to it.
My age condemns me, yet the scared child in me grasps desperately to restore my innocence via ignorance. 
I mourn my innocence. 
Wistful as it was, blissfully remembering the long lost ability to wave off worry and concern and a now developed understanding of things to be fearful of, leave my soul aching for past naiveté. 
Oh, but to be so juvenile as to see only potential, reveling in fun, excitement and hope…the next adventure, the newest thrill! 
But the carefully crafted attempt to shield myself in avoidance has massive chasms and rips in the coverage that I wildly grip at as if trying to pretend that mere scraps of weathered and worn material could possibly protect me from the storm that is life and the world that I live in. 
It is the greatest deception. 
Damn my age for demanding I take notice and call to account the distorted and unreliable misgivings of my youth. 
My heart pines for the simplicity of carefree days, childlike wonder, and a lack of understanding that allows for deep, restful sleep free from the realities of life that foster sorrow, pain and worry. 
I desire to be lost in frivolity and simple worries and pains that are childhood; a scrapped knee; a parent that cares so much as to meddle; a sweet crush that pricks my heart; a stubborn whim to escape rules; concerns that are of no consequence. 
Ah, the revelries of youth…wasted on the young.   


 

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