Meet Lady Apathy.

There was a time in my life when I knew exactly where I stood. I thought that one day, I could grow up to change the world. To rise quickly through the ranks of society and uphold such a position that I would be able to fight for what I believed in and because of what I did I could finally earn my place in the history books.

Today, I'm really not so sure.

See, back then, I lived in a time where I was not so besotted by the problems of the everyday struggle. I lived in a glass house, cut off from the rest of the world, oblivious to the suffering that billions of people the world over faced, whereas I, a teenage boy, a hopeless romantic, would laugh all that pain, all that suffering off, and make myself a promise that when the time came, I'd be better than all that. That like the eagle, I'd rise above adversity and soar higher than the rest, up into the sky and into the sunset.

Things have changed.

Now, I am no longer confined by the walls of my house. I have been through the hell of everyday life and back, and my passions, my dreams, my aspirations, my beliefs... all of them, which I harbored as a child... some have stayed, others, wasted away with time. Suddenly I am no-longer the wide-eyed wonderer of a couple of years ago. I am the weary, disillusioned college student who knows that he cannot remain in the sort of fantasy world that children dwell in, forever, and that one day, he, too, must spread his wings and leave the nest to fly into the dark blue yonder--- that is, if he can survive what lies ahead.

Henceforth, each headline about gasoline prices going up or a natural disaster resulting in a tragedy or a newscaster being abducted is no longer a challenge for me to man up and take on the world. For this weary, disillusioned college student, such news are merely nuisances, extra baggage, that I must pay no heed too, at least for now, as I try to go about this labrynthine mess that is the adult world.

So it is with great shame that I admit my apathy to the world. I try as much as possible to give the headlines a little more than a glance, and shut myself out from any call to greater action.

Because I'm fucked up, too. The times I do not worry about academics or organizational matters or social what-nots I devote to the turbulence inside my system. I am a tornado trapped in a glass bottle. So much hurt and distress screaming for release that I try my utmost to suppress. My brain says ignore, but my heart says nurture, all this mess inside of me. I try so often to calm this violent storm, but try in vain.

Before I can call myself ready to change the world, I have to call myself ready to change myself.

I'm going to bed.