I am a kid

I have just discovered writing and I am very excited about it. I have just learnt to combine words to make sentences, combine sentences to make paragraphs, paragraphs to pages, and pages to stories. I have just learnt what makes sense.

I have been so excited and engrossed in my discovery that I forgot everything else. No one was equally excited about my discovery. No one should have been. Someone was needed to bring me back to my life, my existence. Someone had to break the hard-nut of my ‘discovery-ecstasy’ domain. Someone had to mother me.

Who better than ‘situations’. They hit you hard in the face and bring you back to your adulthood. You cannot be a kid at 27. You cannot get excited about silly words.

If you become a kid, then situations don’t affect you. You are always cheerful. You are selfish. You cry for selfish reasons. You are happy for selfish reasons. You don’t care what other people think. You do things that excite you. You want people to be interested in your discoveries, no matter how small they might be. When you are a kid, you think this world is a nice place.

I am discovering words, stories… life. I am discovering emotions. I am discovering silly things. I am getting slapped by situations. I am learning.

I am a kid, because I want to be a kid.

I don’t want to grow up. I don’t want to understand situations. I don’t want to learn how to tackle them. I don’t want to become an adult because they ‘don’t’ make mistakes.

I want to keep making mistakes all my life. I want to fall flat on my face. I want to lie. I want to ask stupid questions. I want to offer stupid solutions. I want undivided attention. I want to keep discovering. I want to feel overjoyed at simple things, for simple reasons. I want to feel this way, all my life.