I never really liked being a kid. I couldn’t understand why ‘adults‘ envied kids. As an adult, they could do what they wanted, wear what they liked, and didn’t have to give an examination to prove what they knew. Or so I thought.
I’m on the other side now. I’m the ‘adult’. And I get why most of the ‘adults‘ preferred being kids. There’s a price to independent thought and being accountable for your actions.
Time might change your appearance, but doesn’t necessarily bring an open acceptance to your ideas or beliefs. Being an adult doesn’t warrant unbridled freedom either.
Each line earned – is a mark of – every battle fought in life. Stories get written onto your face, everyday. Tales of lost love, failed goals, and forgotten memories etch their way into your life.
And time can be brutal. It can keep ticking. And make you want to desperately turn it back.