I don’t want to grow up (a discussion regarding my dislike for adulthood)

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I know what you’re thinking. ‘It’s too late. It’s happened already.’ But the truth is, it hasn’t.

I’m still growing up. I just want to stop growing.

I still learn about life everyday. I still watch people and recognize the differences in everyone’s reactions to moments passing by. I absorb the realities of this and that. I tire from making lists, notes and taking orders. I just want to be.

I want to stand still and let life linger mid-air. No deposits, just being. Being with loved ones. I rather absorb the beauty of who they are then be drained by the constant time we spend with work colleagues that we don’t get to choose.

When finances force you to give up a part of your freedom, of which is never 100 percent to begin with.

Life is always substracting. We should be adding instead, adding the richness of just being. Letting go and wearing your birthday suit. Whatever your style may be. Whatever makes you special the way you are.

And there isn’t competition. One of the greatest evils that lurks in the tangled web of everyday life. I dislike myself the most when I want to win. And the more I grow up, the stronger this stranger becomes.

The people. The people. Need I say more?

What about love? — Shakespeare was the story teller. Our stories are ambushes waiting to happen. I vote for putting on repeat ‘the first month’.

I desire to be a child. I want to remember the way I felt when I tasted ice cream for the first time. I want to remember how excited I became when I held a dandelion in my hand. I want everything to feel new. I want to give it the attention it deserves.

I don’t want to grow up. I want to stop.

I want to feel free.

I will never feel free if I don’t let go of whatever angers me. Stops me.

Perhaps.