Maturity vs Happiness

Let me start with giving my personal defination of the word "Maturity".
To me, maturity is nothing more than the measure of endurance of uncertainty. Someone who was the closest person to me once told me that I am infact immature or a better way to say it, childish. His/her assumption was base on the fact that I'm excited over little thing, such as getting a new cellphone. Just as if like a 5 years old boy got a new toy. Question lies,does he/she, does we ever stop and ponder, our disillusioned life is choosen to walk along the side path for contemplation that will only accompany by complication?

Have we chosen to fail to dream for fear that our expectation will shake us in our quest to lead a contented life? (The following sentance is for my dear friend, clay) Have YOU chosen to ignore love for fear that heartbreak will only further drown us in the depths of emotional storms? Have we forgotten to smile instead of faking it? Have we forgotten the dreams that occupied our childhoods? ARE WE BETRAYING OUR DREAMY, AMBITIOUS AND COURAGEOUS 5-YEAR-OLD SELVES?

If we search our soul, there's this 5 years old that we always felt fulfilled. We never saw obstacles, only goals. There were the time when it would rain outside, and all we saw was puddle of water that exhaust our imagination. Never did it occur to us that our mom would probably beat the hell out of us or that we'd catch a horrible cold. We used to have purpose no matter how mundane the routine. We used to have hope no matter how futile the terrain. What happened to that 5-years old? What happen to us?

We have chosen to shine in light on the well-lit road of modern materialism. We have left that 5-years old in the dark groping in thin air because it was easier to leave him behind and follow the herd rather than find his path.

We used to be so happy for all sorts of little things, new movie coming up, new toy,or even just our favourite football team score a goal (liverfool is so going down tomorrow). We used to love that girl for no reason at all. Used to want to see the world, through her eyes. Used to want to tell her we love her no matter what she say in return. We use to text her and tell her we miss her. We used to have that courange. Today we lie amongst the rubbles of broken dreams and hope that amongst the scatter of a turbulent lifestyle we find peace. Love had been define as a luxury where can be fulfilled by pickup girls in clubs where they cant see anything beyond your expensive t-shirt. Our principles have compromised to a lower standard without us ever realizing it.
But hey, we're the pride of the block in an alley of drunks. Us, man had found a substitute for courage, our ego.

Girls seem to have forgotten that love wasnt just another elusive dream, it was reality. Today the lure of the chap's credit cards, his nice jeans, his won't-break-down-anytime-soon car and probably-rich-enough-to-your-liking parents seem to occupy your hunt for the man. Maybe it's growing up,maybe it's maturity. Maybe loser like me who write crap like this will never grow up, maybe loser like me who is immature.

If those are the world's defination of maturity, then I would want to be immature, I would wish to be childish. To stay 5 years old for the rest of my life. Maturity shouldn't be related to happiness. Maturity is how you deal with the problem you face and not what you stop you from smilling.
I would rather die a happy 5 years old than live a sad hundred years old.

We may die tomorrow, Live A Life As There's No Tomorrow.