You enter a situation that falls into your lap while you fall down a stairwell. Because, hell, why not? I'm young. And it presented itself...again.
Cautious, perhaps? Or just stupid. Like a child getting on a playground merry-go-round while the big kids push it. You feel like you're going to puke and fall off and it's going to hurt like hell, but they're pushing it too fast and it's too late to get off. So you just have to wait till it stops...or at least slows down. And then on what do you play?
Composed after departure, you get your stomach in check and someone asks if you want to get on again. Hell, they DARE you to get on again - or perhaps you dare yourself. And against your better judgment - and with no one watching - you get the fuck back on that stupid thing. Then, once you're going back in slow circles, you see the big kids coming back to pu(ni)sh you, and you go "What the hell was I thinking?". Only, now you're 26 and you know you should know better.
But you can't. Somehow you can't stop getting on. And you sit there - a glutton for obvious punishment - and scratch you head and say WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?! This was just suppose to be easy and fun to ride. And now you're bothered. And sick to the stomach and I-feel-like-I'm-going-to-fly-off-this-centrifuge-of-persons.
You sit there. Grown up. And you analyze and understand that nothing - even this, perhaps especially this - exists in a bubble.
What was there at the beginning is never the same at the end. Otherwise we'd still all be at the starting line...and still sitting on that damn merry-go-round. Everything changes. Life alters. If you can honestly believe that life exists in a bubble and ideas and feelings and nuances and expectations and please-don't-fucking-do-that's don't change, you are blind. Or pretending. And you need to junk punch that big kid and tell him to stop spinning the god damned merry-go-round so you can get off the blasted thing!
The only problem is, it's really fun. And really the only ride you like on the playground - regardless of if all it does is go in pointless circles. But sometimes playgrounds change: They take away your favorite recess past time. And the big kid graduates. And you grow up.
And then what? You feel like a child on a swing and it's just so back and forth. Can things just be as easy as playing in a sandbox and when I want your shovel, you give it to me and when you want my bucket, I say "okay". Because we're adults now and isn't that how's it's suppose to work?
One should probably just use the slide. Or play with bugs. And then she whines, "BUT I DUN WANNA!"