The little child (or ultimate procrastination..)

sometimes I think it would be nice to be still a child. to go back to a time where everything wandered me, and everything was new and exciting. I would love to have back those innocent eyes, those ears that would refuse to understand the right thing and instead made up random words or phrases that ultimately were the walls of my parallel reality, my own little, crazy word. I would love to be able to resume the feelings and thoughts generated by every first encounter, and paint them in my mind so to track back the history of me and people.

It would be amazing to be still a child listening only to Mozart and the 883 and watching only Walt Disney.. to have back those strong values: this thing is either black or white - my mum would say - and black is right, white is wrong (or the other way round ...)

Because back there I had stable land marks, fixed ideas, morals and the shame. life was easier back there. and exciting. But childhood is long gone.. and morals with it. My moral compass, my foundations, all has been broken down in the storm that is growing up.

Don't get me wrong.. I love it. love being totally lost all the time.. just saying it was easier back there.. knowing where to start from..

John Barleycorn Must Die