Every human being that has reached the age of 'assumed' maturity, has gone through a stage in his/her life where all things revolved around said person. Then at about 6 months, they begin to realise most of the world doesn't care if anything is wrong. As they grow older, they long to relive those days when all it took was a cry to have the world (or mommy) come running to 'fix' things.
Sadly some are yet to make peace with this when they have some measure of power.
Maturity, I think, has a parameter based on how one handles frustration. They can't handle it, so they pass it on to other people.
I have decided that they are not worth it. Aside from exercising my maturity (which is under-developed...a natural short-coming amongst writers because they are ego maniacs overt or covert, basing their lives on works of fantasy rather than meat-&-potatoes reality), I really don't think they are worth it.
Why?
Because as Gnarlz Barkley puts it,"Who cares?"
So if I tell you that things will get much better, I mean you will better handle that God-given gift of selective-apathy.
There is no conclusion for this matter.
I've chosen my path, now I have to commit to it. Mine is the path of...me.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless handheld from Glo Mobile.
