I don’t know if it’s the Peter Pan movie I watched or the old photo album I found in a corner of my house that made me think this way. I seriously don’t want to grow up. I want to go back to be a little kid again… a kid who does whatever she feels like doing without worrying about the consequences because, well, she doesn’t know what’s the meaning of “consequences” yet. A kid that doesn’t care about tomorrow, the day after that, or a year from now…only today mattered to her and today’s top priority is to have as much fun as possible. I want to be a kid who doesn’t spend a moment in life worrying about what if’s, I can’t’s, and should I’s and just does things without hesitation. A kid who is carefree, who runs free outside and gets her knee deep in mud and laughs about it. A kid who seizes the moment instead of letting it slips between her fingers. A kid who believes she can do everything because she’s that confident about herself. No worries, no responsibilities, no fears, no nothing. I want to be that kid.
Then, reality hit me like a train wreck. I’m a fourteen year old…and I’m no Peter Pan.