Musings

believe.

They tell us to stop acting immature, to 'just grow up already.' The thing is, we never really grow up. What we've only succeeded to do is to masquerade as adults by donning a facade of matureness, simply because it's what society expects us to do.

All we've done is to push the child inside each one of us away, concealed under the faux skin of adulthood society has forcefully wrapped around us. We forget what it was like to see the world through the innocent eyes of a child, to frolic around with everyone, regardless of their appearance. We forget what it was like to let our imaginations run wild, what it was like when we pretended to be dashing knights in silver armors, escaping the molten lava by jumping from the edge of one couch to another. We forget what it was like to return triumphant after a mighty battle with that dread of a toy dragon.

By forgetting the simplicity of our past lives, we inextricably forget what it truly means to be happy.

We cease to believe.

In miracles.

In happiness.

In magic.

All we focus on nowadays are pain, depression, hurt. It's sickening to see what has become of the world, where animosity spreads like a viral disease in the place of love. Where the people gets colder with every passing orbit around the sun. Where selfishness got everyone following the wrong direction. Where everyone treads on rotten ice, for one misstep, one small flaw, one small distasteful shenanigan, will cause them to sink down the social ladder.

Perhaps I will be scorned for the way I think. There will inevitably be people unhappy with these childish dreams of a better tomorrow. They will warn me that should I keep thinking like this, life will give a diabolical laugh and spit in my face the first chance it gets to.

If a spat means I can lead life through the mindset of a child, then I'm willing to take it. I'm willing to shed my faux skin for a gleaming set of armor, and I'm believing.