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It’s important to be a responsible adult, but as far I am concerned that doesn’t mean be an adult socially, which to me equals: asshole. Adults ( grossly-generally speaking) care only about sex and money and the money is a tool to get sex. It’s been making the world go ’round since dawn of evolution. It’s such sad fact, really. The sense of wonder and fascination with the world fades from the psyche when the mind is consumed with such a limited drive.
I can’t help but think of Micheal Jackson right now. He was a Dionysus-Peter Pan type who like me, was a responsible adult, but socially lived in his childhood–the one he wished for in his min that is.
A big part of me still thinks he did not molest anyone. I see myself in him too much to think otherwise, whole-heartedly. Rather, I think he played games kids play that he was too old for. His father was so busy making money off of him when Micheal was a child star, that he never pulled Michael aside and said “You’re not a kid anymore” like my family and mentors did for me, which I hated. I took communal baths and slept naked in hot nights with my friends until I turned 11 and my menstrual cycle started. The start of a period is big red flag telling any girl, “You’re not a kid anymore”. However, the mental change is not instant. Years later, the Persephone in me is still adjusting.
Micheal, I hope is somewhere wonderful where he can stay 9 years old and frolic in his fantasy world. That is, if he is the way I imagine him to have been in life.
Karma will tell.