I Have Arrived

Sunset casts long sinister shadows. The sky is stained bloody
by the crimson ball. A misty haze chokes the air!
I have arrived.

Night creeps steadily; my breath comes in short rapid bursts.
Realisation! Sore heart, watery eyes.
I have arrived.

The morning that is my childhood and youth is but a distant, yet vivid memory;
a memory clung to feverishly.
It is a memory of comparing sizes and missions to organise forbidden media;
of adventure with wire cars and home-made soccer balls;
of hoping dad won’t find the ever growing gap in the wire fence;
of sneaking into the neighbour’s yard for fruit and other pleasures;
of carefree frolicking with the neighbour’s daughter;
of the first kiss and the first real intimacy;
of friendships forged and friendships lost.
I have arrived.

Songs of rebellion ring loud!
A constant incessant refrain… freedom; to be master of my own home; to come and go as I please; to be grown up and be answerable to no one.
I have arrived

Is this not what I wanted? Am I not master of my own home? Am I not free to come and go as I please? Oh what a great burden it is to be an adult! Is this what I was rushing for?
I can do nothing about it for…
I have arrived!