Days just go by. Roll by. Day after day. Relentlessly chugging. After a while, you just stop noticing anything. Boredom cloaked in routine, cloaked in habit, loses its sting. And I can't imagine a scarier thing. Failing to notice boredom because it's become so... familiar.
And this is what they all warn you about. Them with the trophies of grey heads, sad wrinkles, potbellies, healthy bank balances, shrivelled dreams, and dead eyes. And I bet you smirked and scoffed at the idea that it could happen to you too.
And this is what they all warn you about. Them with the trophies of grey heads, sad wrinkles, potbellies, healthy bank balances, shrivelled dreams, and dead eyes. And I bet you smirked and scoffed at the idea that it could happen to you too.
6 comments:
In rare moments, I do think one should follow one's dreams and even after failure, you would atleast know that you tried.
Rest of the time, ofcourse, I'm cloaked.
Yup, but a feat, methinks, that can only be accomplished by the courageous and the naive. That amount of optimism and lack of cynicism would require a tremendous amount of bravery, doncha think? Bravery bordering on the rink of recklessness that 'growing up' seems to strip us of.
And also the fear of being called stupid (or rather ending up feeling stupid).And as you grow up, the fear mounts..
Precisely.
and now, I'm scared. very. very.
:(
~Bratman.
Why? Already in possession of a healthy bank balance? :))
I've seen you comment on Hema's blog. Do I know you?
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