Childhood.

That’s what I miss the most.

Whenever I mention that to people whom are older than me, they say “you’re already a child, is there any childhood other than the one you’re living now?”

To be honest, I understand their point of view. I am too young to think of my life like that.

I should be older than I am now, to have these thoughts. I should be around forty-something. Which could be the double my life right now.

But I just can’t help it. There are many things that I’ve learnt so far that I wish I hadn’t. I wish I was oblivious and blind to some facts that became clear to me at this age.

When I was younger than this, I used to have this image of life, an image of how my life would become like. I was so naive back then. I thought that racism was just in the old books on my grandmother’s bookshelves.

I was dumb, but that was enough for me. I was happy for myself and the world that I’ve built up inside my mind.

I know that all this might make me look selfish, wanting to live inside my own made-out-of-imagination world and not thinking about others.

But I don’t care anymore. I just miss the me who had no responsibilities or worries. I miss acting dumb and playing around. I miss making friends who aren’t judgemental.

I just miss how simple things were before I actually started to think for myself.