“When she was just a girl, she expected the world. But it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep…”
Why is it that, for so many of us, childhood (regardless of how unfortunate that period might be) brings with it the stubborn, wildly unsubstantiated belief that paradise awaits us in adulthood? Did we really see so many happy, well-adjusted adults? Did we really witness every person of voting age exercising complete control of their lives, and how the spent their time? Did the complaints of relationships, jobs, and lack of money from the grown-ups in our lives fall on deaf ears? Is the denial of the increasing difficulties of life truly childish stubbornness, or is it a psychological defense mechanism, an untarnished hope that ensures that we all make it to adulthood without any suicide attempts?