Remember when you thought boys had cooties, when dreams were un-shattered and worries were few. When recess was too short and life was too long, decisions came easily without need to belong, storks delivered babies and passions weren’t so strong. Friendships were un-broken, right was right and wrong was wrong. When bad things didn’t happen, when only skinned knees brought tears and the night light in it’s socket quieted our fears. When farewell meant just for the summer and real friends didn’t leave. The fun went on forever and never left a broken heart. Remember when getting high meant swinging on the playground and the worst thing you could get from boys were cooties? Daddy was your hero and mommy was always there to fix you. Your worst enemies were your siblings, race issues were who ran the fastest in gym class, and war was just a card game. But now? Now… Getting high means high as a kite and pot isn’t just a pan in the kitchen. STDs and babies are huge compared to cooties. “Daddy” is an asshole and “Mommy” is a nag. Race issues mean so much more. War is a matter of life or death. And life just isn’t fun anymore, the magic is gone. Sometimes I wish I was a kid again because skinned knees are easier to deal with than mending broken hearts.
(Source: whudduplex, via whudduplex)
