Growth Pains
My Blind imitation of American Pop-stars is pure self-inflicted stress to my larynx although the compensation of a seductive hoarse mistress voice sufficiently covers the damages.
I have conjured up a teen memory to go with this thought: age 16, belting out “not a girl, not yet a woman”, eyes shut, miraculously perched on some mountain, head facing the sky and fists tightly clenched to smother rising frustration of being misunderstood. I sing this Britney Spears song with enough conviction to win over any jury.
The older version of me, with no sense of relativity, finds this rather amusing and laughs dismissively at the “no-one gets me” phase. The singing sounds like muffled rantings of a petulant teenager and it’s viewed as an unjustified outcry in light of the hardship I face my life right now. Put simply, I am caged in an even more awkward corridor of time entitled 20 going on 30 so teen years are significantly reduced to opening performance acts.
For my sanity, I will refrain from listing the burdens of entering adulthood in the context of our avaricious and unfeeling world and strictly emit positive energy in this blog. Typical of my optimism bordering on idealism, I will gradually unveil my coping mechanisms in the madness of our times.
Staying Forever Young (0 points for Originality)
1) Boys never outgrow PlayStation and their psychotic love for games extends to the various compartments of their lives. A part of me admires that.
What are grown-up games for females before they earn the privilege of pushing real prams and dressing up real babies. If complaining about our lives and updating statuses and tweets is our game then I will sit out and volunteer my playground duty services. Botox? Sex change? Nail Parlour? Hairdresser? Spas? Shopping? I am not sure if the adrenaline rush will equate to that priceless one of beating your friend in FIFA. “Girls just wanna have fun” accurately implies that most of us are pathetically searching for fun. It’s excruciating to watch a girl not enjoy herself on a night out. Her perverse set of facial muscles become frozen in an awful look that reads “I wish so-and-so was here”. It’s even worse when dubbed the girl that is in charge of someone else’s fun. Damn it, make your own fun! My technique: I have a strict policy of surrounding myself with fun-makers.
2) It would help if they invented abstract preserves for long term storage of genuine identity e.g. I am an idealist and I do not want to lose that. It always helps to revert to youthful thoughts to capture my idyllic self. Just like the characters in the movie “Inception”, I am the architect of my dreams. To offer you a blinding glimpse of my Ideal world:
We eat rainbow rolls and candy floss. We poo butterflies. We use colourful ponies for transport. We play dress up all day. We live in castles. We transform into pretty mermaids that sing beautifully underwater. We have long hair. We dance and attend balls. Our Princes run after us. We all live happily ever after.
I may not believe in the fairytale but it does come in handy to think of it from time to time. It is a theoretical benchmark much like how economists use perfect competition to offer some kind of guiding principles for the market economy. “If you can dream – and not make dreams your master” you’re on the right track.
3) Music is another girlie grown-up way to unlock my inhibitions especially during the hormonal patches of unsociable moroseness. I mean “How dull is it to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished and not to shine in use! As though to breathe were life”. Miley Cyrus, Glee musicals, Justin Bieber, Lion King soundtrack, Willow Smith and anything Disney always rouses me to animation. I was walking on egg-shells in that last confession. An adult like me liking such childish things could be a paedofile disguise right? Do you get women child molesters?
4) “Nothing conforms to infancy”. I used to have a strong desire to deposit my childhood years in return for liberty dividends but I ironically had more freedom growing up. My carefree spirit, my willingness to try everything and my firm belief in a greater cause was never clouded by self-doubt. I had an unconstrained eagerness to learn and the focus was not on performance or on making my life a spectacle. I do not mean to glorify my former self but I do want to paint an encouraging picture of my potential.
“The moment I wake up, I say a little prayer for you”: I pray that you do not sell your soul to something you do not believe in. I pray that your creative mind is not ruthlessly exploited by dull extractors. I pray that you do not fanatically pollute your CV with disingenuous filth. I pray that you do not become wired with such low moral fibre that you succumb to the lure of an easy life and dissipate into a self-interested hedonist. I pray that you do not strategically connect spiritually after you have your fair share of worldly pleasures (i.e. find God when you outgrow sin) Above all, may the inevitable series of trials ahead not become excuses for your life to deteriorate. Puff your sail with that haunting faith and optimism that makes people wonder what you’re made of.
5) “Smile though your heart is aching; smile even when it’s breaking”. I never used to get this adult game of hiding your emotions but as counterintuitive as it seems , it works. What’s the use of crying in the company of your enemies? It’s music to their ears. The childish trick of a crescendo sob that is amplified by the sight of your mom or a caring adult is brilliant. You do not go sobbing to someone who clearly does not care do you? Instil a healthy distrust of people (particularly in an organization) and do not make the mistake of exposing all your vulnerabilities to strangers. Of course you should seek assistance where you can but try seek out people who do not derive utility from your perplexed state or lock you into returning the favour. There are gems in this world – I kid you not.
Just dance to your own tune because “…those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music”.
“Let your inner child run wild”!
Sunshine and Rainbows,
Zama
