BEING YOUNG ROCKS
In the middle of writing a summery article for a kikay client, I felt my mind wandered off to the years of yore. Okay, not exactly to the years of yore. Kind of like a short trip to my subconscious’ Disneyland.
Yeah, I guess it’s what you kids call nostalgia.
Maybe it’s the absurd coldness that springs from the A/C that a three-layer clothing can’t do wonders. Or the very annoying colleague that spurts nonsense from her mouth just to get your attention. Whatever triggers the mind to “escape” from its usual place, it’s all good considering it’s a friendly reminder that there’s always an alternative to everything. Even to cow dung.
One of my proudest moments in life is my colorful childhood. There are times when I deliberately refuse to grow up. For me, it’s like saying goodbye to a longtime friend who has become a huge part of who you are today.
No, I don’t watch cartoons anymore. I gave up my Barbie dolls long ago (*sniffs*) to my younger cousins (who have grown like trees now) and I don’t play in the rain with just my underwear, frolicking around with my naked friends. That kind of childhood memory deserved to be just that—a memory. 😛
But I still believe in true love. And in marriages that last. In leaders who can be NOT corrupt. And in heroes like Shaider and Bioman whose mission is to fight all evil and unite in full force for the greater good.
These “childish bordering on stupid” beliefs may not matter to some. But these have greatly influenced how I view the world from where I stand.
Sometimes, I think adulthood is some kind of an obligation. Because we add years to our age, we are also expected to add something to what we should know. That’s why we go to school. Along the way, we develop a critical mind. The kind that doesn’t readily accept spoonfed crap. But then, the way some people think now is not necessarily better. Oftentimes, it’s just parading half-truths and biases, disguising as the answers to everything human beings ought to know.
Despite the dominance of maturity as the one tiny hope for a better existence, my love for childhood does not wane. With my share of “adult experiences,” as I’d like to wholesomely coin, I learn to appreciate every single moment of my younger years more.
It’s really more fun when being right isn’t much of a big deal than being happy.
That’s why I feel so bad every time I hear stories about children being physically abused, sexually molested and forced to work like slaves. It’s also sad to know that there are kids like Mariannet Amper who gave up on life too early. Being young and innocent is supposed to be all about laughter and enjoyable moments with families and friends. Where part of your daily itinerary is just about hanging out with your girl friends and competing with each other for who’s gonna get the cute boy next door.
To know that not all kids are happy in that most significant period in a person’s life is agonizing. All kids deserve a happy childhood. You only get to be young once, after all. So how dare some people take that opportunity away just because the “so-called adults” think they know better.