I totally forgot, totally, that I had to attend an ICJ hearing tomorrow. I mean today, in 10 hours I will be attending it. I really, honestly, totally forgot that the day to come is the 22nd of March. Already.. Time flies, as they say. And I felt it; that sudden wave of realisation hitting me in the face like a freaking shovel. "Eat shit, beloved human being", it said.
I will be turning 25 this July, yes I will. I always felt that time is not important, if you still feel a child inside. Well, I still do. I still feel like a child; I still am a child. At heart. Not always. Sometimes. Because the truth is, I am an adult. I may be funny, twisted, wicked, whimsical, unstable, insane, wacko, totally nuts or whatever, but I am an adult; and I feel it in my body, I see it in my mind. Twenty-five is not young anymore; it's five years before turning thirty. Thirty. More than a quarter of a century old. In five years. And I'm pretty sure that they'll pass like a blink of the eye. And I blink quiet often, might I add.
So, what else is there? Really. What is it, besides the world as we know it? Sure, it's the world as we don't know it. Countries, places, culture, nature.. Irreplaceable, each and everyone of them. But still, what I yearn for the most from time to time, is turning six again, and seeing the world through the eyes of a child. Not that I was very happy as a child. Like it or not, I was a responsible child. But I was a child. A real child. A small human under development, a small human full of unexplored potential. What am I now but a mere selfish "big" human pretending to be something that she's not? I am not a child. I am not a child. I am not a child. If I say it many times, I might even believe it at some point; but I highly doubt it. After all, I still am a child.
I remember running at my mother's bed at a time I then(by then I mean six years of age)considered to be the middle of the night, which is, probably, around 8 pm on a winter evening, and she was reading a book. I jumped on her all teary and stuff crying "Mommy, I don't want to die. Never. NEVER! And I don't want you to die, I don't want any of you to die! Why do we have to die? Why?!" (Quite an advanced statement for a six year old, don't you think? Well, it sort of sounded like that. Sort of.) and she said smiling (but I'm sure very troubled) "I don't know. I don't want to die either. But we're all going to die.". I replied to her "Don't worry mommy, I'm going to save you, you see, you won't die! Because I don't want you to die, I'll find the cure for death!" and kissed her and left her to take me to my bed so I could dream of keeping her and my family alive. Forever; like vampires.
And I guess that's what it all comes down to, the fear of death. Because it's true, none of us really wants to die. And they who do, really don't value life at all. 'Cause when I think about it, about life, about my family, I really realise what it is that scares the hell out of me. It's not the responsibility I have to face from now on, it's not the crying and the laughter and the pain of living, it's not the time you spend on trying; it simply is the fear of dying.
It's true, I don't want to die. Not yet, anyway. I will though, huh? Well, I suppose I have to deal with that.
But, no, that's not true. I don't want to die. Not yet. Not now. Not ever.
I will be turning 25 this July, yes I will. I always felt that time is not important, if you still feel a child inside. Well, I still do. I still feel like a child; I still am a child. At heart. Not always. Sometimes. Because the truth is, I am an adult. I may be funny, twisted, wicked, whimsical, unstable, insane, wacko, totally nuts or whatever, but I am an adult; and I feel it in my body, I see it in my mind. Twenty-five is not young anymore; it's five years before turning thirty. Thirty. More than a quarter of a century old. In five years. And I'm pretty sure that they'll pass like a blink of the eye. And I blink quiet often, might I add.
So, what else is there? Really. What is it, besides the world as we know it? Sure, it's the world as we don't know it. Countries, places, culture, nature.. Irreplaceable, each and everyone of them. But still, what I yearn for the most from time to time, is turning six again, and seeing the world through the eyes of a child. Not that I was very happy as a child. Like it or not, I was a responsible child. But I was a child. A real child. A small human under development, a small human full of unexplored potential. What am I now but a mere selfish "big" human pretending to be something that she's not? I am not a child. I am not a child. I am not a child. If I say it many times, I might even believe it at some point; but I highly doubt it. After all, I still am a child.
I remember running at my mother's bed at a time I then(by then I mean six years of age)considered to be the middle of the night, which is, probably, around 8 pm on a winter evening, and she was reading a book. I jumped on her all teary and stuff crying "Mommy, I don't want to die. Never. NEVER! And I don't want you to die, I don't want any of you to die! Why do we have to die? Why?!" (Quite an advanced statement for a six year old, don't you think? Well, it sort of sounded like that. Sort of.) and she said smiling (but I'm sure very troubled) "I don't know. I don't want to die either. But we're all going to die.". I replied to her "Don't worry mommy, I'm going to save you, you see, you won't die! Because I don't want you to die, I'll find the cure for death!" and kissed her and left her to take me to my bed so I could dream of keeping her and my family alive. Forever; like vampires.
And I guess that's what it all comes down to, the fear of death. Because it's true, none of us really wants to die. And they who do, really don't value life at all. 'Cause when I think about it, about life, about my family, I really realise what it is that scares the hell out of me. It's not the responsibility I have to face from now on, it's not the crying and the laughter and the pain of living, it's not the time you spend on trying; it simply is the fear of dying.
It's true, I don't want to die. Not yet, anyway. I will though, huh? Well, I suppose I have to deal with that.
But, no, that's not true. I don't want to die. Not yet. Not now. Not ever.
