I think it comes with age… the clarity of circumstances, the widening of perspectives, the understanding of things: what once was just a wall suddenly becomes detailed with cracks and various textures. And I guess it’s kinda sad when the same thing happens to our view on people… when we finally lose the rose-colored glasses and begin seeing them as they really are… when we finally see our heroes as normal people with their own set of troubles juggling their way through life. But I suppose they were always normal people; it was our view of them that made them more than what they actually were.


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