Little Diary

Adults

(A paper I wrote on adults back on seventh grade)

Adults

I have to say I think there are too many adults involved in my life. Of course the roles they play are important but... well, think about it like this.

Life is a play. In one certain act, at one certain part of the play, a dove is supposed to fly in bearing an olive branch, signaling to the people in the boat that land is ahead. Now picture a giant flock of doves, storming the boat, and dropping a plethora of olive branches all over the poor unsuspecting voyagers. I am the voyager in this particular play. All the adults in my life, are the titanic flock of doves pelting olives at me.

While the adults in my life don't necessarily throw small brownish tree fruits at me, what I am trying to say, is that they're overdoing it. They all play an important part, but the "important parts," are being divided among too many people. I can live a happy childhood with maybe ten adults mentoring me. I just need a few people to spend time on my education of life, not one billion. Some adults I feel I can actually learn from are my father and mother, My grand father and grandmother (on my mother's side) and Mr. Davenport. I guess these are all authority figures. Then again, what adults aren't authority figures? After all we are the tiny children with the puny worthless lives.(that was sarcasm if you couldn't tell)

I hate it when adults look down on you and think, "I used to be like that. Young and naive." Well listen here pops, you're still as "naive" as ever, if you think thats a compliment. All I can really say is negative. If I were to talk about one adult at a time, This would a much more positive paper. Because I am talking about adults in general, the negativity of the essay will be apparent. I feel like adults are barriers. I feel like they keep you back by nothing other than their own private thoughts. Maybe I shouldn't say "nothing other" because a lot of the time they can hold you from the life you dream of, by making these "personal" thoughts public. Thats what happened when a thirteen year old thought of a cure for pancreatic cancer. He had an idea. He started not even knowing what a pancreas was, but he worked and he came up with something great. No one believed in him. He sent the studies he had been working out for the past two years, to different colleges. They all rejected his works, except for one that didn't. And now all those stupid adult geniuses are sorry. They are all embarrassed that they were too "naive" to think that a child could figure out something that they could not, with however many years of research.

I guess I have flipped this around. I have answered the second question first because I guess I liked it better. I like being able to vent my anger in a childish manner. Ugh. Childish. I hate that word. I could go on and on about that, but I wont. I like to be "childish" because it gives me the freedom to look over the world in a mature way, while still staying back to observe. I don't know if that makes sense. I like to hand out my opinions and go on with my life. I should blame my mom for this whole "I hate adults" vibe. She is always the one telling me the stories about how adults underestimate children. She is the adult in my life who does that sort of thing. My mom gives me every example, of every problem under the sun. She tells me about stupid teeenagers burning down pretty old houses. She recalls tales of people getting in tremendous car crashes, and killing the people in the back seat. She tells me about some of dumb, stupid or cruel things people do, so that I won't make the same mistake someday. Of course, I have a system of dealing with this. Whenever I hear a good story I tell her. When I hear a heart warming tale, that makes you see the good in humanity, I tell her. If she tells me the bad I will tell her the good. Maybe it's because of my mom's stories, that I talk so harshly about the world. Geez, here she goes. Giving me life lessons when i'm in the middle of writing a paper. Isn't that just great!

My dad is a different story entirely. One of the many things I love about him, is that we both love film and books in the same way. I want to grow up to write. I don't like to say it that way though. I want to grow up to create. He introduced me to some of my favorite movies! My dad helped me to understand plot points, and make conclusions about what I think is going to happen. He got my creative juices flowing before he knew he had done anything at all.

My teachers do what you'd think they would do. They teach me things. Most of the time it's just the regular kind of teaching. Sometimes they teach me that important stuff. The kind of stuff you can't put in a class. I like when adults do that. They try to do one thing, and end up doing something better. Geez. That's all I can say,"Geez." I went from a negative attitude, to a sort of positive one. That's what happens when you take three pages to write something. Adults are important for obvious reasons. Adults have to be here or the world would go into chaos over time. Or not... but we'll never know. That's a mystery I think is best left undiscovered.