Truth and Politics

When you're small and innocent, you take it upon yourself to act grown-up. We take it upon ourselves to parade around in pants about 7 sizes bigger than our waistlines, wear spectacles when we have perfect 6/6 vision, or indulge in Shakespeare when we scarcely understand Enid Blyon.

Ah, the good old days.

I've been waiting, and waiting, and waiting for the time when I would be able to fulfil dreams of understanding Shakespeare, pose around in some really funky pants, and look intelligent with a blazer over my neatly-pressed long-sleeved shirt. The material, the tangible attests to my... maturity, for want of a better word.

But to be truthful, although I am blessed with charming good looks and a frankly brilliant mind (and a big ego to spare), I find myself regretting it all. Because at a ripe old 15 years of age, I'm supposed to be able to redefine, to comprehend... to understand.

But as I conquer unknown after unknown manifested in your average test paper, new unknowns are tossed in the way, hoping to somehow or another trip me up in the course of my merry romp. Trigonometry, medical pamphlets, French... trigonometry...

... and Man.

You will be tempted to turn away from my blog right now, because those who know me will expect the literary reminescings of an angsty kid with too much thinking time to spare. And they're probably right. I think about nonsense all the time. But the thing that preoccupies my (highly intelligent) mind the most is Man, and why we act the way we do.

Adults always tell us that innocence is a virtue, that ignorance is a shield that we are forced under for our own good. And I told them that it was poppycock, and utter hypocrisy. Why in the world are we forced under a barrage of Einstein and Newton when ignorance is what the world seeks?

But adults don't refer to the raw knowledge we extract from textbooks and teachers. Adults refer to Truth. They will for us to preserve the youthful innocence that denies Truth passage into our lives, that protects us from the anger, the volatile emotion that Man wreaks upon Man. And they ought to know, because they are warriors battered by years in the face of Truth.

I fear for my friends. For the past year, there has been politics. The cruel reality of power and corruption is hung for all to see as peer struggles for control, for popularity, for the floor. Peace is disrupted, sides are taken, and friendship is absconded. Everything is inconsequential, except for a ruthlessly utilitarian race for the finish.

I fear for myself. As far as I have tried to avoid taking sides, tried to stand by the sidelines, I fear that I am being corrupted, that I am being dragged into the battlefield against will. I fear that I will awaken to find myself abandoning the innocence of childhood for the macabre of adulthood.

I fear.

So much.

And so I desist.