At 40, I am convinced that we cosplay as adult characters to hide our inner child, mostly from ourselves. Some seem to allow the stresses of life and responsibilities to make the mask indistinguishable, but I doubt any truly make it real. Do you wear the mask of age over the eyes of your inner child? Does age hold a meaningful value to you beyond the comradery of shared experience?

  • Linktank@lemmy.today
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    3 days ago

    All I know for sure, is that the older I get, the more I realize that every adult I’ve ever known was just a large child in an older body.

    Grandma? SUPER old kid. Mom? Older kid.

    Nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing here, or what anybody else is doing here. This concept of growing up and suddenly knowing things was a lie perpetuated throughout my entire childhood.