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Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Sometimes you look back at the times you had before, when you were little kiddies running around on the playground, swinging high and low on the swings, so proud when you swung high.
And then you look at yourself now, and you think, 'What the heck happened to us?'
So suave now, so slim, so muscular, so cool, so grown up, just like the teenagers you wanted to be. But now that I'm here, I just want to go back.
Now we're speeding in our race cars, screaming and screeching as we round a corner.
I liked it better when we were puttering about in our little toy cars, pretending to be driving.
Sundays and holidays used to be the times when we hung out together, kayaked, played football, played computer games, watched movies, had fun. Those were the days that we looked forward to, and loved with all our hearts. Sitting in the backseat of the car, in the darkness, drowsy, tired and blissful.
Now sundays and holidays are the days when we study the hardest, finish all our homework, study some more, stress a little touch more, and at night, lie in bed in the darkness, melancholy and dreading the next week when the same cycle runs its course once more. Where in a week's time you would be doing the same thing, willing yourself to sleep so you could concentrate the next day at school.
Last time we yelled and ran about, chasing each other, screaming, fidgeting anxiously while our mothers wiped the muck off our clothes, wanting to go back to play.
Now we stand with our mothers, with the adults, with the small talk.
In those days there was no seperation between boys and girls, it was the same old laughing gang, watching the same show, playing the same game, acting the same play, talking the same talk, having the same fun.
Now when girls and boys are together, there is talk among the gossiping onlookers. There is a taunt tension that hangs between us all. The girls are at one side, talking. The boys are at the other end, acting cool.
Last time I looked forward to the next day.
Now I look back wistfully over my shoulder, for the days that have gone past.
Then our parents didn't shout so much, not at each other, not at us. Nagged some, but not so much. Then we were united in one way, against the parents, we talked to one another, let each other in.
Now all we hear everyday are the yells of our parents, at each other, at us. Now we are are a dishevled bunch, stragglers that face each new day feeling alone and lost.
We were ignorant.
Blissfully so.
Then we were dragged out on long, boring, shopping trips, whining 'Can we go home now?'
Now we are dragged out on long, boring, tiring, stressful, meaningless lives.
Can we go home now?
[ T-ray* ] blogged @ 8:38 AM
