The jade in me

I do not think it makes a lot of sense to be jealous of anyone. Yet, I am. I do not think it makes a lot of sense to be jealous of someone who is just the same as the one I seem to be so fond of. Yet I am. I don't even think I'm jealous of them. I think I'm jealous of what they have. What they have that I don't anymore.

So, when can I get back some of those wide-eyed fascination and marvel at this world? This world that has already made me jaded. A bit, just a bit of that ignorance of others' existence, disassociation with failure and the looks and expectations of others. Give me a bit, just a bit.

If I can look at this world with your lens, I could be more carefree than I am now. Yet, I can't recall my cares. Have I none or have I chosen to forget about them?

This is such a jaded world. With such a jaded me.

Dearth of feelings

So, either way, it's the same. How would I know? No one told me.