I want to be a kid. Like, forever. I don't want to be a grown-up or do grown-up things like dishes and bills and buying groceries and commuting. I'd rather roll in the grass and splash in puddles and read books and trade pokemon. I wish getting dirty could still mean getting coated in mud, and that sleeping around meant having sleepovers at a lot of friends houses. I wish clouds could be made of cotton candy and fairies still wrote me letters.
I guess when you're a kid, everything is new, and new things are interesting like magic. You believe stuff people tell you because you don't know otherwise. Now that I'm older, I know. Things aren't so new anymore, so I guess they're not so magic. Why? I see new things all the time, I just don't notice them because 'I know otherwise; there's no magic.' Well.....................................
Why am i growing up. Stupid Wendy. If I were her, I'd stay the fuck in Neverland with that charming, cocky Peter Pan and fly around on my fairy dust pirate ship. Though I probably wouldn't have fed Captain Hook to the crocodile. I'd just make him take baths all the time.
1 comment:
Darling. You can choose to be youthful adult. Promise.
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