The Whole ‘Growing Up’ Thing

…is really just about desensitization and desaturation of perfectly good human beings.

Despite what anyone else tells you, growing up is about becoming less of a person, and becoming more of a vehicle; a vehicle for certain values and ideals, a vehicle for progress, or a vehicle for the development of other people. Growing up is about learning to feel less horrified by the horrifying realities of being alive. Growing up is diluting yourself to make room for other people. Children cry over the world, the unfairness and severity of personhood, the basic difficulties of getting what you want, need or deserve as a human being with wants, needs and expectations. Children are whole individuals from concentrate. Grown ups cry, but not over the big picture. They’ve watered themselves down into lesser versions of children.

More of the things I do these days… I’m not fully aware of. Years ago, I would have been more in myself, and more in my thoughts…now it seems like I have to turn on autopilot to get through. I do things now not because I want to, and not because I have passion, or belief… but because it’s necessary, expected, or projected to result in growth opportunities.

It’s like the family at Christmas. ‘Grown-up’ should be a synonym for ‘shell of a human being.’

During his Inside the Actors Studio interview with James Lipton, John Cusack once said:

“A friend of mine has a theory, and I think it’s right, which is that he says everybody knows everything in the world at 12. It’s like that’s their high point. They’re the Buddha. And you can see things with a clarity and a precision, that you have to then spend the rest of your life kind of recapturing.”

I wholeheartedly agree, except I don’t think that you can ever truly recapture it. When I was 12, I was so much more affected by the world, by my own mental processes, and by the implications of anything. Nowadays, I am affected, but in ways that are less relatable, less reproducible, more inconsequential, less tangible. Everything about me is transient. At 12, I was made of something. I was built to last. But now, I’m not made of anything.

When I was 12, I could explain myself. I could explain my reasoning, my feelings, my motives. Now, I cannot explain any of those things. I’m not even in touch with any of those things. I’m just functioning to execute things. I’m just functioning to strategize and make plans (which may or may not ever come to full fruition). I’m just functioning on the surface. I’m like the cream that has separated from the milk, and has risen to the top to just settle. I’m just functioning to get through.

But nothing really happens at the top. The top is just bullshit. It’s just fat. It’s all talk and talking heads. It’s all meetings, and planning, and iPhone apps, and bureaucracy, and superficial relationships. It’s a chain of empty ‘grown up’ people, linked by small talk, big words, children, compulsory work relationships and perfunctory views. It’s essentially nothing.

To grow up is to go from something to nothing.

I regret everything I just said.

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