You’ll Understand When You’re Older
My own lack of awareness does not and cannot discredit the validity of the possibility for an occurrence or fact of the matter.
I do not know if the trees speak with one another. I do not know if the minerals of the earth cry out in pain every time we melt them down and stomp our way across them. I cannot hear them so I do not know.
I do not know if the birds are spreading my secrets. I do not know if the clouds of the skies plot against me or for me or have malice amongst themselves and thus storm against my window. I am ignorant of these things.
I do not know if the person walking behind me haunts this pavement or is a tourist. I do not know if my mother misses me. I do not know if my father wanted me. I do not know if my lover has lied to me. I do not know if this item’s price is truly a sale or a guised marketing scheme of everyday. I am not the one to know the absolute truth here, or perhaps anywhere.
The pacifist within me is paralyzed by these thoughts.
So I shake my head free of my mind and turn to the child in front of me in his boisterous exclamation:
《I’ll understand when I’m older! I know. I’ve heard.
— Yes, and you will teach it to me, won’t you?》
Babysitting. Afternoon, early Autumn.