Move over, disillusionment.

Disillusionment is a hard slap to the face of innocence.

Sometimes it feels like almost everybody these days fashions themselves as readers, writers, mavericks, entrepreneurs, change-makers, ‘different’ people with a rigid identity, looking far and wide for their tribe, with fierce emotions tugging at the strings of their soul. The world has been ravaged and devoured by those of our kind. There seems to be little wonder left. If you whisper your dreams into the world, someone is sure to tweet at you saying ‘been there, done that’.

Disillusionment rattles the foundations upon which you build your self. Then don’t, yell the scriptures, the Buddhist monks, the whirling dervishes, the proponents of agape and new age thinkers. Be fluid, like water. Be patient like the sun. Be the apogee of virtue, like an archetype. Be a concept. Live like a prototype in motion. Anything but yourself. Deny yourself the one basic experience that you are living, and transcend.

Ok, stop. Before this gets out of hand. Those will-o’-the-wisp philosophies were not meant to brew up a storm of psychoses.

You need to chill bro. There is a charm to living. It’s got nothing on Utopia, but it’s in a league of its own.


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