Maybe, someday...

At some certain times in our lives, we all do things we swore we'd never do, become something we never wanted to be, desperately try to stop loathing someone you know you'll never like. What next? Ashton Kutcher might pompously philosophize 'I'd rather do nothing than do something I am not passionate about', but do you and your dignity stoop low if this isn't applicable in your life? Habits. They conspire against you. They make you scrawny and feeble. You like getting habitual to people, situations, and songs. You get so comfortable in your skin that you have to scratch it off to make way for change. It might be for the greater good but you detest it. It leaves scars that remind you of happier times.

Growing up is a tedious task. Wounded knees were easier to heal, they say, you understand now, and I know you're not nursing a broken heart. Responsibilities bounce up and down, all around your existence and one sporadic incident makes them realize you cannot handle the pressure. Yet the change keeps on sprinkling little incidents all over your day. You live through them and lose what's left of your tiny little being. A cold beer and an old friend, try to revive you out of your self-induced pain and depression, but who knew, you were meant to drown. You know you cannot break the monotony, but that doesn't stop you from trying. Or does it?

You touch your face and sense a vague sense of pressure like you've put a dozen masks over it. You look at the sky and envy its job of smiling down at the world during the day and resting under the stars at night. But you're sure; it would trade anything to get rid of it. Monotone bites it too. You run with the hare and hunt with the hounds. They say, take life as it comes, what if you don't want to? Rules. You cannot be rebellious now because you're not 16 anymore. You get a new wardrobe and streak your mane a golden brown. The color doesn't compliment you but you're satiated with the knowledge of it being different and new. You're not an amateur, I know that, I believe in you, even when nobody else does.

They love and they care, irrespective of what you decide to do with your life. Yet, somehow, you feel obligated; you think you owe it to them. You don't know how to accept too much love and care but you do complain when they don't come along your way. You hear people complaining and ranting about severe headaches that might explode their heads, and until today, you did not know how one felt like. It's like somebody has been paid to hammer your head at regular decided intervals, and there is nothing you can do  to stop it.

Someday, it'll all start making sense and all the missing pieces will fall into place.

You'll sleep like a baby.

Maybe, someday...