Parce que les adultes sont des gens étranges qui apprennent à aimer le café noir, le vin rouge et les plats sucré salé. Si certains voudraient une traduction en français, n'hésitez pas à laisser un commentaire, cela me ferait plaisir de le faire pour vous ^^
I've always wondered what being an adult feels like, and even though I am past eighteen, I still don't feel like one. When you are a kid, you think that when you hit eighteen, you immediately become old and boring. The thing is, I've grown to think that adulthood is a scam. Taxes, laundry, a job you don't like, an inexistent love life, and a lifelong supply of bitterness. Yet, I look around me and you, adults, are everywhere, with your serious faces, your crushed hopes and absence of friends. Here and there, a child survives in a body too big for him. He'll have a smile on his face, he'll say hello to strangers and still put clothes without checking if they have been ironed correctly, or if the colors match. But those children disguised as adults are a rare thing, and here you are. And I don't want to be like you.
And I can't help wonder : What kind of deal did you sign with the devil that keep you going through this poor excuse of a life ? Or do you all think you are martyrs, hoping for bliss when you'll join the afterlife ? And I can't help but ask : When do you become like this ? Is there some kind of secret ceremony, a cult we, children and teens, don't know about ? When do you abandon your dream to become an astronaut ? When do you start telling stories to children even though you don't believe them ? When do you stop laughing at the rain, fierce against the crying sky ? When do you stop talking to your friends about your new crush and just wonder what gift you'll have to bring this time, to be proper ? Why in hell do you care for your children, yet you forgot how to take care of yourself ?
And believe me, I am at a loss, but more than that, I am mad. Each day that passes, you create the world we live in. You leave us as a legacy global warming, and corrupted old politicians. You hope we'll become like you, so we'll fit in the system you helped to sustain. We'll become boring and old and we won't live our lives for ourselves anymore, just like you. But I don't want to be like you.
Because you see, I became an adult too young. I still don't know how to do laundry or pay my bills, but at seven I knew not to bother Mummy when she was sad, to help Daddy when he was mad. At thirteen, I suppressed all the anger bubbling in me because of the injustice of this world. I stopped talking about the mean kids at school even though I still didn't really understand why they thought being mean was cool. At fifteen, I hid my tears from everyone because adults didn't cry.
Because you see, I wanted to be an adult so bad, to be able to take my life in my own hands and be respected. I wanted my opinion to matter, I wanted to change the world. And people don't take you seriously when you are nothing but a child. I wanted to become an adult because I wanted my ideas to matter, only to realize that becoming an adult meant to abandon your big ideas because you couldn't fight the system. I wanted to be an adult so bad because I had dreams, but dreams are nothing but illusions you need to get rid of, even Plato said it. I wanted to become important but adults are only shadows of what they could be because they don't have the time to be themselves anymore. When you ask them why they are not happy, they'll answer that it's because of the system, that this is how life is. Harsh, cruel, unforgiving, unfair.
But don't you realize that you create the system ? That you lead your life ? You're nothing more than us children, in the end. You blind yourself with pretty pictures of what should be and what should not so you won't have to deal with the apocalypse we are all patiently creating, day after day. So I want to scream. I want you all to laugh at the sky again, and feel the raindrops fall on the tip of your tongue, because that is real. I want you to get drunk again and see the world through a prism of pretty colors, because in a way, that is more real than the constant state of hangover you stay in. I want you to shake the rules, to scream at what you don't like and make faces at people you don't like, because at least, that is real. I wish I could tell you to love again. I wish I could tell you to believe again. I wish I could show you the way to the real world, but I can't. Because I'm just a teen with big ideas but no knowledge of the world. Because children should respect their elders. Because children want to change the world, but their words have no meaning, no importance.
So I'll become an adult like you in hope you'll listen to my voice without me throwing a tantrum. And I guess it doesn't really matter if I lose myself in the process because self knowledge is not something you need to succeed. I guess it doesn't really matter if my dreams die and I forget why I'm here anyway, and no, I won't go outside when it's raining, because I can't miss work because of a cold. I'll become an adult to finally lead the way to the real world, and I guess it doesn't matter if in the end, I can't even remember what freedom tastes like, if I forget what reality looks like. I'll become an adult like everyone else, and I guess it doesn't matter.
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