To think like a child.
I just watched 'finding neverland' and i sincerely don't want to grow up. I don't mind getting older, i look forward to being older, but i don't want to become boring. I want to play the games we used to, eat imaginary food, sneak up on witch's houses, try to avoid the carpet covered in lava. I remember crawling through muddy swamps in the flatland of North Carolina in search of a waterfall. Selling lemonade on the side of the street, feeling as if we were doing these people a favor but secretly knowing, and not sharing with grown-ups, that we knew they were humoring us.
I want to climb the highest tree i can, then fall. As people come to check up on me i just want to lay there giggling infectiously. Days when a minute seemed like an hour, an hour seemed like a day, and a day seemed like an eternity if your mom told you to "wait a second". Perhaps it is while you are young that you are more fully able to recognize the importance and value of 'your' time. Every second should be used to do something extraordinary like saving a baby bird, or attaching a 'kick me' sign to the back of a grown-up without them noticing.
I remember being excited about homework because it was what big kids do, and learning to do my own laundry. Feeding the dogs was not a chore, it was an opportunity to practice my culinary abilities (of which, the aromatic evening air proved my attempts successful in that the food was digestable.) Listening in on grown-ups conversations and feeling a sense of accomplishment in figuring out what the topic was about. Accomplishments came with lots of work and little time. Being able to turn on the bathroom sink by yourself, figuring out where the bunnies in my shoe strings were supposed to come from, what's wrong with dust bunnies, how a rat's nest got in my hair, all moment's of enlightenment. Sometimes it just clicks. The way to win tic-tac-toe, how the quarter got behind your ear, when you play back messages on the answering machine, the person is no longer on the other side.
Or maybe it's when you're going 70 and hit a patch of ice sending the car flying into a 360 turn and the only thing that comes out of your mouth is "weeeeee!"
I'm not ready to grow up, i want to break a few bones before i can say i've truly lived.
I want to climb the highest tree i can, then fall. As people come to check up on me i just want to lay there giggling infectiously. Days when a minute seemed like an hour, an hour seemed like a day, and a day seemed like an eternity if your mom told you to "wait a second". Perhaps it is while you are young that you are more fully able to recognize the importance and value of 'your' time. Every second should be used to do something extraordinary like saving a baby bird, or attaching a 'kick me' sign to the back of a grown-up without them noticing.
I remember being excited about homework because it was what big kids do, and learning to do my own laundry. Feeding the dogs was not a chore, it was an opportunity to practice my culinary abilities (of which, the aromatic evening air proved my attempts successful in that the food was digestable.) Listening in on grown-ups conversations and feeling a sense of accomplishment in figuring out what the topic was about. Accomplishments came with lots of work and little time. Being able to turn on the bathroom sink by yourself, figuring out where the bunnies in my shoe strings were supposed to come from, what's wrong with dust bunnies, how a rat's nest got in my hair, all moment's of enlightenment. Sometimes it just clicks. The way to win tic-tac-toe, how the quarter got behind your ear, when you play back messages on the answering machine, the person is no longer on the other side.
Or maybe it's when you're going 70 and hit a patch of ice sending the car flying into a 360 turn and the only thing that comes out of your mouth is "weeeeee!"
I'm not ready to grow up, i want to break a few bones before i can say i've truly lived.