“With great power comes great responsibility.”

It is not every day easy to be an adult. There was a time where I would wake up, serve myself a glass of vodka, and spend my time carelessly — taking the day as it came. Nowadays, a glass of vodka will make me remember for two days that my digestive tract is not in its prime condition any more. A matter-of-fact reminder of the unavoidability of time.

Growing older shifts concerns. These days, I am more often concerned with having to tread a balance carefully every moment of social life. Take an example: today, I heard the dreadful question: “what do you think about me?”

Being honest is easier when what you say is inconsequential. When mistakes are cheap and have little consequences. However, when closeness attaches extra value to sincerity, words become heavier with significance; they become gifted with the magic that will give their shape meaning beyond semantics — that same magic that shapes feelings and crystallizes them into monuments of actualization and everlasting bonding memories.

In those moments, even small mistakes will hurt deeply; although the “right thing” might merely be superficially constructive.

I dislike this situation. It forces me to think and judge real human beings (real, as opposed to those away and encapsulated by bits and waves), carefully and thoughtfully — and then share my thoughts openly and distinctly.

I never had the chance to be the recipient of such careful attention; to the contrary, I was hurt often by carelessness and mindlessness in the use of words that I allowed to carry magic into my direction. Without proper positive experience, I fear daily that I am not competent enough to act responsibly. Something about this: Whatever is hurtful to you, do not do to any other person. — or so I heard.

Seriously, why is it important to say more to friends than that you love them and that you are happy that they exist in your life?