Living like we’re renegades.

23 is usually the age when it first hits you (hits is the keyword) that the things which bring you joy and the things which bring home money are not always the one and the same.  A lot of other things hit you, too.

It’s the beginning of the end. Seemingly, at least.

*A renegade is a person who deserts and betrays an organization, country, or set of principles.

You thought you knew what confusion is? Think again, says Life, as it coolly orders its war troops to shower attacks on you.

Pressure pours in from all sides- you’re mostly just on the defensive against Life. All your troops, including the highly and specially trained ones, seem to fall short on strength, will, and power against the troops sent by Life.

It’s Childhood v Adulthood, Dreams v Career, Passion v Financial Independence, Innocence v Hardships, Heart v Reasonability, Freedom v Responsibility.  It’s You against Life at 23.

From 16-22, confusion does not prevail because your troops are somehow much stronger- if only by sheer ignorance of the supernatural powers of the Life Troops.

However, at 23, by when Life has successfully dealt some severe blows which you realize you indeed cannot overcome, by force, will, or power, your rashness mellowed and your Major, the Spirit, tired, you almost start giving in. Life commands you to think again. You obey, almost immediately- because you know better now. Ignorance is no longer an excuse or explanation.

Out of all your fallen troops, the one (and the only) which is still even bothering to put up a defence is the Hope Troop. The Hope Commander tells you to look around, maybe send for help to the Secret Allies (the Childhood Friends- with help from whom you dreamt, built, and nurtured your army against Life). In a last helpless attempt, you shoot your messengers to the allies. They come back with fallen faces.

Your allies have already submitted to  the Adulthood Troop sent by Life, M’Lady.

Lemmego. Heylemmego. LET ME FUCKIN’ GO, you shout as you realize the enemy has got you from all sides. You’re gasping for air.

You’re cornered, seized- sentenced to  Rigorous Imprisonment for Life. In prison, your rigorous job is to conform.

You refuse to give up and devise plans for escape. Why, still? Because you’re a reasoning renegade. Impossible though it may seem, you’re going to find a way to reconcile the two seemingly irreconcilable sides.

Reconciliation with,or victory over Life. Renegades don’t give up.

There has to be a way.

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