"Evolution at 25" (possible draft)

I'm at the point where I accept the fact that I will carry
my memories with me in a sack wherever I go
(maybe not as heavy as lead, but carrying it nonetheless);
I can't cry for them and lure nostalgia into this mess,
since my memories are always with me.
I cannot miss them;
I mustn't.

I'm at a point where I see beyond a persons face
and I have the ability to glance at a soul.
I can chip away facades like a sculptor
and yet promise ignorance to the deceiver
with an innocent confusion of the brows.

I'm chipping away what was left of cultural tradition.
I'm accepting the fact that I'm more resilient and solitary than I thought;
not that I don't want to be around people all the time,
but more so that I can't.

I let the things that matter fester a bit more
as I savor the fleshy moments a little slower
to get the flavors the chef slaved so hard to get.
I'm quite over revenge and harboring the disease that is: hate.
Ignore it, like you would the attention-whore child
until it stops trying to make you acknowledge it
and walks away without a sound onto the next sucker
that will buy it (and there are many).
Out of sight out of mind.
And I know it to be the only formula that works.

I'm slowing down a bit, not that I was ever a fast child,
and realize speed actually makes u go slower;
for thats what the rocks in the road are for.

I'm judging myself less, since there's no such thing as regret
only the changing of your mind.
And I'll believe that until I die.

My mind works in such a fashion
that scares me sometimes,
while making me feel like an ancient proverb.
And so, sometimes I feel wise beyond the years
I'm supposed to feel at this age.
And I wonder if that's good or bad,
but I guess there's no real answer
since there's no measuring tool in life
apart from age.

I'm at a point where I realize that
all that I was taught
and all that I learned
wasn't what I was supposed to believe,
but was just intended to teach me
how to learn on my own,
at 25.