Jaded. Such an interesting word. Until just now, I had never looked up its meaning. It always held a cynical air to me, like a world-weary old friend. I’m afraid that’s what I’m becoming. I’m turning into this skeptic, a disbeliever in all things sacred and pure. The world has lost its color; now it merely blends into all shades of gray. Innocence has gone missing.

But still, there’s some lingering magic in the word. Jaded. Reminiscent of a jewel. It has a little bit of class to it, as if the jaded individual is somehow more knowledgeable and more experienced than the average person. But who wants to be jaded? Who wants to be tired and cynical, wandering through a life deprived of pleasure?