Because there ain’t nothing else like a memory of a time before, 20 years ago, that you might have forgotten, that your child might experience in another 10 years, (when you are kinda old, damn), a time when you can make lots of friends, when you have a buddy, when you learn alot of things, when you learn everything, when you felt like you knew everything, when you were happy to go to school, when life was so fun, when there were cartoons, where there was hope and future and time and no regrets, and some petty fights and squabbles, when the money wasn’t yours, when you weren’t even really supposed to have a bank account, when you don’t have a phone, or three, when there are pencil cases with pencils and erasers and slot compartments, when what you wrote could be erased, when mistakes could be erased and forgiven, when you were learning (not that anyone has stopped learning), when you could hold a girl’s hand platonically, when a girl would let you do that without slapping you or bitching about you, when there were no subtleties in smiles, words, communications, emails, smses, texts, IMs, when you didn’t yet know how to look attractive, when you didn’t know how to flirt, before anyone worried about sex, (oddly enough there comes a time when people do not worry about it anymore), when you woke up before 6am every day (goodness how my neighbours do it), when you get home in the afternoon, when you didn’t realise you had a choice, when you didn’t have a choice, when you were safe in this world that your parents have created for you and enveloped you in, when you didn’t realise that there were a million other possible upbringings in life (like streetwars in south america), when you didn’t have one million memories and one million words to write a piece like this, when you didn’t read pieces like this, when you weren’t sick and did not imagine you would die young, when you have never been kissed, when you have never broken your heart, and healed it again, when you didn’t know that you could love another and be loved again, when you had only one family – the one you were born into, when everyone you knew was close by and not 2000 miles away, or 20000, when you never had to sleep in a hotel room alone, when you didn’t wonder if your top matches your bottoms matches your shoes and whether you need to bring an umbrella, when you didn’t decide to train or drive, when you had zero frequent flyer miles, when you thought you hated eating the same food again (omg did you really think that then?), when you didn’t know the size of your waist, or bust, when you didn’t watch movies, when you never knew me, when you watched everything with an penetrating yet innocent gaze because actually you didn’t have anything else to think about, when you didn’t understand sleep debt, when you had makeup on for a school performance but really you didn’t really care about it, when you put everything in neat rows, when you dragged your blanket along the floor, when you did not know about sunrise, and sunsets, when you had a spotless mind.
I mean, I can write all that above, but I sometimes still wonder what I am doing with my life. I know that given the depth of what is possible, the depth of emotion and expression, some things just ain’t fulfilling enough, but I guess I will find something, and it might surprise myself just yet. I don’t know where.