I don't think being sex was like that, at least not for me. But even if it had been, being me now would be better than being me then.
Why would one want to be a child again, confused by the world around, subject to the whims of adults, told when to get up, when to go to bed, where to go, when to go, what to do, screamed at, understanding so much less of the world around and the other people in it!
Now I can go to McDonalds and like it or go to a place with better food and like it even more. Then we didn't go to McDonalds, and I had to eat what had been cooked. Now I have friends cooking for me who actually take into account what I like! Is that not better?
I can still play in the mud and puddles if I want to. Except now, no one would be scolding me for getting my things dirty!
Then, someone else got to decide whether I got any M&Ms at all. Now I have money with which I can buy M&Ms. Or something else.
Then, I was torn between the lies I had ben fed about the Christkind and St. Nikolaus, and my friends telling me they didn't exist. Now I can still play football (which I never wanted to play) and I can still wait up on Christmas and St. Nikolaus, only know that it's my friends and my parents bringing the gifts, and that they love me.
Then life was confusing, now it's much clearer. I knew much less then and I was treated accordingly and I noticed. Now I can still sing the nursery rhymes, but I can also sing other songs.
I hated breaks at school, because then I had to deal with other people whom I didn't understand very well, trying to fit in, anxious for friends. Now I love breaks, because there are friends whom I understand, and we can spend the time together, go on field trips, share our snacks, help each other and generally have a good time.
Then I was small and didn't know very much, including what it was that upset me, exactly. What made the world so strange and difficult. Now I know better; I can usually analyse why I am upset, and I can be happy because I know that my life is wonderful and that a lot of people want the world to be fair and are doing amazing things to get it to be so. I know how much is possible, something know when I was six.
I have sometimes learned to little. I have never learned to much. I don't know how that could be possible.
I want to continue learning and growing.
One of my earliest memories is my grandmother's death when I was three years old. It was very sad, but it was also very good, because when I saw her he was smiling, and I learned that day, that death can't be that bad. I have never lost that knowledge. Whoever wrote that text can't be very educated if they think that six year olds had now concept of death. Death is usually a theme children first address at age 3-4!
The complexity of life makes me just as happy as the little things.
When I was six, I wasn't allowed to watch TV. I missed out on a whole lot of interesting shows. Now I get to decide whether I want to watch TV at all, and what, and for what reasons. How is that not better?
I still love learning. A good debate, a good lesson can make me happier than most other events in life. Thankfully, they are much more frequent now than they were when I was six and my kindergarten teacher didn't even want me to learn how to write!
I want to continue living MY life.
I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the things that directly concerned me. I'm still not seeing everything, nor is anyone else! When I was fourteen, I chose this verse as my confirmation: "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." It's still true and dear to me. Or as a wizard once said (it may have been Ponder Stibbons, or someone in a conversation with him): I'm still confused, only on a much higher level.
I would hate to be so naive as to assume that if I'm happy, so is everyone else. Because it would make me blind to other people's sorrows and keep me from helping them when I could.
Now I CAN walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for. I did it last year, it was wonderful.
I want to understand how it is to be an adult and I can only do that by being one myself. I can still spend my afternoons climbing trees and riding my bike, and I can tell my computer to remind me when my appointment with the dentist is, and then forget about it myself. I can also make the appointment for a time that is most convenient to me, instead of a time most convenient to my parents, and I enjoy those visits far more now that I am an adult and can flirt with the doctor than I did when I was a child and slightly frightened.
I can still wonder what I'll do later, but now I am much more confident that it will be something good, and I am happy to see what were once like forms in the clouds to become more tangible, more real, more likely to actually happen.
So you can be six if you want, but I'll go on growing, thank you very much. If you liked, I could look after you.
Wow, you really took this to heart, didn't you! Thanks for the thoughts, though!=. I don't really want to be six. I just miss the security and absence of worry. I like being twenty*mumble* but you can still look after me if you want...
Well, it's a bit of a pet peeve of mine, the notion that being a child is somehow better than being an adult, or that children are somehow better than adults. My first rant about this must've been in a French test about the little Prince … and I still give repeat performances like the one above every now and then.
You really weren't worried when you were six? I don't remember much, but I do remember that there were things to be anxious or sad about, and that my tools for dealing with them were much worse and far more limited than they are nowadays.
They can! But their bodies are old and decaying! That said, it doesn't do to dwell on the impossible, so I'll content myself with the consolation of maturity!
Why would one want to be a child again, confused by the world around, subject to the whims of adults, told when to get up, when to go to bed, where to go, when to go, what to do, screamed at, understanding so much less of the world around and the other people in it!
Now I can go to McDonalds and like it or go to a place with better food and like it even more. Then we didn't go to McDonalds, and I had to eat what had been cooked. Now I have friends cooking for me who actually take into account what I like! Is that not better?
I can still play in the mud and puddles if I want to. Except now, no one would be scolding me for getting my things dirty!
Then, someone else got to decide whether I got any M&Ms at all. Now I have money with which I can buy M&Ms. Or something else.
Then, I was torn between the lies I had ben fed about the Christkind and St. Nikolaus, and my friends telling me they didn't exist. Now I can still play football (which I never wanted to play) and I can still wait up on Christmas and St. Nikolaus, only know that it's my friends and my parents bringing the gifts, and that they love me.
Then life was confusing, now it's much clearer. I knew much less then and I was treated accordingly and I noticed. Now I can still sing the nursery rhymes, but I can also sing other songs.
I hated breaks at school, because then I had to deal with other people whom I didn't understand very well, trying to fit in, anxious for friends. Now I love breaks, because there are friends whom I understand, and we can spend the time together, go on field trips, share our snacks, help each other and generally have a good time.
Then I was small and didn't know very much, including what it was that upset me, exactly. What made the world so strange and difficult. Now I know better; I can usually analyse why I am upset, and I can be happy because I know that my life is wonderful and that a lot of people want the world to be fair and are doing amazing things to get it to be so. I know how much is possible, something know when I was six.
I have sometimes learned to little. I have never learned to much. I don't know how that could be possible.
I want to continue learning and growing.
One of my earliest memories is my grandmother's death when I was three years old. It was very sad, but it was also very good, because when I saw her he was smiling, and I learned that day, that death can't be that bad. I have never lost that knowledge.
Whoever wrote that text can't be very educated if they think that six year olds had now concept of death. Death is usually a theme children first address at age 3-4!
The complexity of life makes me just as happy as the little things.
When I was six, I wasn't allowed to watch TV. I missed out on a whole lot of interesting shows. Now I get to decide whether I want to watch TV at all, and what, and for what reasons. How is that not better?
I still love learning. A good debate, a good lesson can make me happier than most other events in life. Thankfully, they are much more frequent now than they were when I was six and my kindergarten teacher didn't even want me to learn how to write!
I want to continue living MY life.
I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the things that directly concerned me. I'm still not seeing everything, nor is anyone else! When I was fourteen, I chose this verse as my confirmation: "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." It's still true and dear to me. Or as a wizard once said (it may have been Ponder Stibbons, or someone in a conversation with him): I'm still confused, only on a much higher level.
I like that.
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I would hate to be so naive as to assume that if I'm happy, so is everyone else. Because it would make me blind to other people's sorrows and keep me from helping them when I could.
Now I CAN walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for. I did it last year, it was wonderful.
I want to understand how it is to be an adult and I can only do that by being one myself. I can still spend my afternoons climbing trees and riding my bike, and I can tell my computer to remind me when my appointment with the dentist is, and then forget about it myself. I can also make the appointment for a time that is most convenient to me, instead of a time most convenient to my parents, and I enjoy those visits far more now that I am an adult and can flirt with the doctor than I did when I was a child and slightly frightened.
I can still wonder what I'll do later, but now I am much more confident that it will be something good, and I am happy to see what were once like forms in the clouds to become more tangible, more real, more likely to actually happen.
So you can be six if you want, but I'll go on growing, thank you very much. If you liked, I could look after you.
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You really weren't worried when you were six? I don't remember much, but I do remember that there were things to be anxious or sad about, and that my tools for dealing with them were much worse and far more limited than they are nowadays.
Adults cn look after each other too :)
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