Yet another day, repressed in the existence of this culturally restrained metropolis. I'm an observer of my own character--resisting the expectations of what a twenty six year old wandered ought to be. Who can blame me? There is an ocean of opportunities awaiting my attention and yet I fail to focus. It's true what parents used to say--Life is easier when there is a scarcity of choices. Graduation from a prominent university once determined ones political, social and economic fate. Today, a graduation is just an excuse to go up that platform and get your photograph taken by a self-acclaimed professional. Ok. I shall at least give some credit to the long hours I've spent perfecting the art of pretending to be preoccupied with desires for scholar maturity. I choose to assert that time and effort were not wasted, disregarding the fact that I am still a frustrated writer and activist, feeding on the wealth of my sociopath-etic, workaholic parents.
I really am in no place to complain. Life's been ecstatically comfortable. I've maximized my living capacity in extracting the brilliance of this me-centered world; even trying my utmost ambition to diversify logical thinking into being one with reason.
How IS the world out there? Today, I've managed to isolate myself from the complexities of the dishonest cosmopolitan. Pretense can be spiritually draining. Need I suck up to the sweetness of a Martini when all I really fancy is an ice cold bottle of liquified Barley (beer)? When are friends considered colleagues, acquaintances or BFFs?
This is the Dog-Eat-Dog-World that I am accustomed to inhabiting. To me, it's the life i choose to partake in even when the truth is only real when I'm alone. I've successfully enlived this society-accepted facade--choosing to be the dog that bites. But hey! This is a favor to my circle. Why? There is no 'life' to them unless I bite.
This is your peephole into my life. The rest of the adventure awaits..
xoxo
Posh Wanderer
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