What are we if we’re not projects? A constant compounding of our parents best attempts at success? Say your parents are rocket scientists, some truely brilliant minds of this century who have contributed to science in such big ways that even they are humbled by it…That’s mum and dad. They’ve come together in some harmonious matrimony, assuming all things equal and ignoring the divorce rates this country are so proud to boost. After a few years when they’ve come to the realization that the spawning of a new offspring, namely you, is in order…they get to work. Nine months later you emerge into a world where you are nothing more than a blank slate, a compounding of two brilliant minds who have designed such aeronautical feats that they defy this planet’s boundries. What are you if not a project for them? Our parents are nothing more than narcisists disguised as paternal adults hell bent or rearing a child into a successful brilliant future that they can boast about at the next cookout. Assuming of course that rocket scientists are big into grilling. They follow the manual and never skip a step…Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy…the whole ordeal of attempting to trick their offspring into believing things that they now know are one giant farce. The books are read, the experiences and life lessons taught, and quietly they vest in some silent hope that you’ll be the next big thing. You will be their miracle, their genius, their Nobel prize winning superhero for the modern day, their masterpeice. Nonetheless, we’re just a mess. We’re a malfunctioning disaster of what they’d once hoped would be their greatest accomplishment. We’re the living proof that they’ve faced limitations and defeat in more facets than they’d originally planned for. We’re born human but it takes a lifetime to be a person. It’s a pretty honest guarantee that there’s a better chance of us being less than what they had hoped we’d be -their Vietnam War. That’s not to say we’re complete failures, we’re not the earth’s biological waste…doomed to spend the rest of our lives being sub-par, we’re just not what they’d expected. The large majority of people are truely brilliant, amazing and fantastic, but we’re probably not the savants our parents expected us to be that first day in the birthing room, when we’re still blue and inhaling the first breath’s of a new life. Nonetheless, it’s nothing to get upset about, the opportunity will come when we can prove this wrong, when we can raise a child so amazing and brilliant that they have to come up with a new prize to give this little cherub in honor of all of it’s worldly accomplishments.
That’s the whole point, isn’t it?
There's a love coming to us all. 