Life is not what you make of it. It is what others dictate for you. For all our efforts and our plea bargaining - with ourselves and with others - we slowly find out, with years come and gone, that it was futile. You can set a million goals in life and accomplish all of them, wearing that heavyweight championship title belt that nobody but your mother could take away from you, and you can be all the talk at the water cooler. You can be promoted from within all the way to the top and rule a million lives with one stroke of your pen...but only if somebody else dictates that for you. Only if you are rewarded, by others, for setting such goals will your life become what you want it to be. We build relationships out of spite for one another, we travel long distances just to expound upon our distaste for one another's accomplishments and, most importantly, we live in vain. Shouting at the sun for shining, clawing our way through self-realization and disagreeing with everything our friends have ever told us because we knew better...we do it all in vain.

Vanity is something that is wonderful in its own right. So many facets, so many paths to travel through and come across. Our many vanities seem to be one thing we have enough conviction left to fight for. Exacerbated with honesty and small talk, our new virtues become those demonized in so many story books. We aim to keep our heroes at bay with an abundance of compliments and sugary, blood soaked half-truths wrapped up like Christmas gifts. We do not care what we feel like as long as what you think of us is acceptable. And we no longer deal with our many insecurities on an interpersonal level. I, myself, am a faded reminder of what I used to think I could accomplish but...now I remain quiet. This is the sound of silence.

You talk too much. Right? Or, perhaps you don't talk enough. Either way, silence is something we often take for granted. Gone are the days of absentee chauvinism and an offer to hold the door open for you. What I'm going to do instead is breathe heavily while I view your pictures on a social networking website. I do not care if you are happy because I can edit-undo you. I can copy-paste you. I can create a life within a life, simulations upon simulations of nothing but copypasta second thoughts. Hesitation in this world doesn't cost me what it does outside. Silence does not turn against me no, in fact, it works in my favor. If the deepest conversation we ever have never reaches a yell rather, a loud clickbang-shaclackclack of a keyboard, my job is done. Give me your emoticons and a hand to hold so I never have to stand up and defend myself against the many loud accusations you throw at me on a daily basis in the form of intelligent, meaningful conversation. Vocal chords of destruction...you shout at me. I am backwards inside of me but I am a fucking champion. And the only thing that will dethrone me is a rolling blackout and the inevitable conscientious objection that comes along with it. If only I could remember what my mother used to say.

Memory loss. Forgetfulness. I often forget about what I should be doing because of other mental obstructions - fear, excitement, confusion, etc. - and it leads me down paths of stressful awareness...if only for a few minutes. Nothing shocks your core like forgetting something that was of dire importance. You forgot to pick him up from soccer practice, you forgot her anniversary, you "forgot" to pay the cashier for the water under your shopping cart. I forget things very often. Or do I choose to replace those thoughts with something to my liking? Maybe I don't forget as much as people think. I'd like to think I focus 100% of my energies on things I love and things that will make me a better person. My inherent vanity, punctuated somewhat by my biological father never being there for me. I am alone because of you, dad, but you have given me the power of selection. And I never abuse it...unless I want to.