I heard it was a big deal, you know? 30? You should be this that and the other by now. Like the past three years didn’t feel like a simulation. Like the inner child in you is not having a fucking fit right now. Like your sanity, hopes and dreams are not fighting for their existence right now. Like everything you were ever told didn’t turn out to be bullshit right now.
30? Real mature.
The amount of “grown men” who have tried to convince me of their own worth, only for them to realize that I was asking them to find it for themselves. It was never for me. Your anger was never about me. Your stress was never about me. Your jealousy and violence and lying were never about me. 30 times over, I’ve allotted space for others to make mistakes with an empathetic hand nearby, only for it to be burned to the bone.
30…with degrees, no kids, a small career foundation and no real prospects in love. Why does any of that even matter? Do you really want to bring kids into this world? Look at the suffering. Look at the anguish just to get by…look at the angels flying above us because of the incapacity for change. It’s disgusting. It’s hard to breathe. It’s hard to walk the street at night without fear. It’s hard to trust anyone. Do you trust you anymore? 30, you probably should.
“Should”…it almost feels like a bad word nowadays. Telling any grown person what they SHOULD do? At this big age? Seems ironic. Feels triggering. Still unsure if that’s my trauma or my attitude. Should we even call it attitude at 30? Probably not. There’s that should again. Why do I ask outside of me? Am I even asking outside of me or do I just seek community? Is it community or validation…media will tell you the latter. A healthy mind will tell you “it’s human!”
I think should be that at 30…human.