|You always said I would regret it if I grew up too fast.|
|August 25, 2012 //_ 4:05 PM|
There used to be a time when I could just get lost for hours daydreaming about all the future things I would do. All the small details worked out with every inch. Times where I actually had time to listen and inquire and care and laugh and love and float along with life. Where running away from home and never coming back was more of an imminent event rather than an absurd childish afterthought. Where I fell in and out of love with the world in a heartbeat.
When I think about it, time doesn't really exist. And what's more awkward to think about is if time doesn't exist, that just means that we're all floating around getting older. We're all using time as an excuse to stop dreaming. To stop playing and to "grow up."
You can't be an astronaut. You can't be the president. Or a flower.
You're not listening to me, you're waiting for your turn to speak.
All I really want is one person to tell me that every. thing. is going. to be. all right.