The Stolen Childhood

New blood joins this earth
And quickly he’s subdued
Through constant pained disgrace
The young boy learns their rules

—Metallica

The pain of adaptation to rules he integrated as a child kicks in long after the childhood is gone.

The void remains…

The puzzle is missing…

The void of nothingness remains. The piece of the puzzle was beaten out of the free exploring child. The parents and the world knew better. They started moulding. Tough and hard. With a smile on their faces but tough and hard nonetheless.

Moulded to the rules of the collective. The giants that are the collective. They reject the child and form the cornerstone of society. But the void remains. The open wound aches, sores, hurts. Breathing is hard, and emptiness is heavy. Often in the chest. Sometimes in the stomach.

He runs, eats, drinks, drugs, worries, works, cleans, clings to others, threatens, devalues…

It’s still there…

Some know it is the void that is there…

Some never know what is it that is missing.

A lot of them see it as others’ fault.

For some nihilism is the easiest and most affective anaesthetic. One that numbs the pain of the lack of purpose. What best to take the pain of no purpose away than to proclaim the life that is the pain as purposeless, meaningless. Nothingness, hopelessness, loneliness, existential boredom all become bearable somehow in the face of nihilism.

My life that does not have any worth is easier to live with nihilism. Why would I do anything about it? If I do, the purpose might emerge. What greater pain but to see yourself as nothingness in the mirror of purposeful life?

What’s the point? What is the point when the point you brought to this world… One that you held and carried with your smile… That one and only point was said to be wrong. The smile is gone. The void emerges.

The bright kid is beaten and gone…

The adapted kid survives but suffers… and he suffers on…

The tired self-absorbed success chaser suffers… on…

The relationship addict suffers on… while the void remains…

Afraid of the two-faced inner self that might emerge. One that he never saw before.  The self he was led to believe in as a child. But the self that is a lie.

The grumpy old man suffers on…

The void disappears with the grumpy old man…