Every generation seem to face the phase where in growth, they must search for their own personality; some get lost in the starry-eyed goals they have set for themselves. Perhaps those failed attributes spawn from the certain limitations that have been put on the dream itself. For example, how are you supposed to find out who you are when you limit your scope in one direction?
How can you be free if you set about to limit yourself?
There is no shortage to the amount of adversity that you or I will face in life. The positive side to it is that it will carve the weakness out of us, to make us survivors of the reality that we have lived through.
But surviving reality seems so unfulfilled. Everyone wants more than to exist; not to merely subsist in life but to fully enjoy it, and perhaps ultimately to find unfiltered happiness.
There will be times, and there has been times, when all you have hoped for will not be gifted or packaged in the way you had expected it to be. That's tough. That's life. There is no hope that out there, somewhere, someone will come and salvage however abhorrent state you maybe in. No one's going to come help you pick up your life. Albeit there will be times when you will receive a helping hand from a person out of their own kindness and tenderness. Think of it as an return payment for your emotional investment, even if it is detestable to look at friendship from an dispassionate point of view.
Friends might ask "What's wrong?" or "Are you okay?" but the question was only asked mainly for the reason to maintain decency. It would be fairly indecent to not ask, wouldn't it? Most of the intentions are only skin-deep. It's what society has demanded for us to do, to put on a visage, to make it seem as if asking is equitable to trying to help you with what problem you have. Some person(s) may not give you an answer you asked for, on the basis that it might "hurt your feelings." So they give you something nice, something that is packaged to look full of warmth and empathy. But that only really bastardizes the truth. There's only an empty and vague promise, something that has no absolute worth. That distortion of the truth, when you realize it for what it truly is, will assassinate your character. You thought you could handle the truth but when in reality, you would fall so easily for a lie.
Once in awhile, that will happen. Once in awhile, you'll feel so deadened from feeling crummy for days. You have to reevaluate your life and you have to make yourself anew again if you want to live on. I know I shouldn't mope around or try to self-destruct, but the pain feels so much worse. Perhaps I will land flat on my face, which has happened plenty of times, but that's still moving forward.
