Unsupervised

We’re making it up as we go along. Remember when you were young and you looked up to the adults in the room? You could rest easy knowing everything was under control. They spoke confidently and with authority. Declarations and admonishments had real power. Things happened according to their will. But now I’m the adult in the room. My son looks up at me with those same wide eyes. I sit in boardrooms and nod along to the corporate jargon. I feel like an imposter. I've no fucking clue what’s going on. I’m perpetually winging it. I can barely take care of myself, yet I’m somehow in charge of people and paid a stupid amount of money to chat shit. And I look at my peers. Look behind their eyes and you see the fear. Nothing makes sense, everything is dying, and there’s no real point to any of it. Equal parts freedom and terror.