Word transplant somewhere in blog. Guess the donor.
My pedestrian preoccupation with politics has sputtered and fizzled out quite a long time ago - somewhere between getting my first white hair and falling for a man who loves popping candy, I guess. It has since faded into the annals of my extended adolescence, a chapter that is redolent of wayward idealism and bourgeois reasoning. A typical case of disillusionment? Perhaps. Or maybe stuff has happened and subliminally revealed to me that, poof!, I'm done raving and raging into the night. *shrug*
What I do know for sure is that I don't know whether to rejoice or mourn the fact that I now call idle talk what members of my circle consider interesting discourse. My current state, peaceful may it be, seems to stink of either ignorance, arrogance or -yeah- apathy (apathy remains a myth, in my opinion). Pretty dismal, considering that I can't settle for being stupid, being a snob or being the social equivalent of a stone statue, can I?
And yet, I have to ask myself:
Just exactly how much of Life As I See It depends on who is President or not, on which politicians lie or not, on whether my definition of democracy tallies with my neighbors' or not?
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