It’s times like these, when you don’t know what to believe, that it becomes frustrating. Those times when you can’t tell whose voice you’re hearing. One is the grownup, the mature one. The one who always rationalizes everything. The realistic one who doesn’t care but about themselves, about not getting hurt while hurting others in the process.
The other one would be the child who cares about everyone. The child that is always laughing and giggling. It’s always happy with what it has and is a joy to have in life. Everyone loves that child but they don’t know it. The grownup hides the child away from you, so you don’t act like that child. The grownup wants you to mature, to be realistic, not to take risks so you won’t hurt yourself. But you can’t really enjoy your life without that child.
The child is the only one who knows what you’re really feeling, the only one who can tell you. But it’s hidden away, kept under lock and key. Its voice, drowned out by the grownup trying to sound like it, disappears. The grownup is doing an excellent job feeding you lies for which you do fall and keeping you miserable while convincing you, that you’re just fine, that you are content with your life.
The grownup being your brain and the child your heart
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