It sure is different.
Why then would we ever want to turn back time, after all, time doesn’t make the moment — it’s us. But to the likes of someone like me, maybe I’ve thought about that scenario from time to time. It’s something magical, to have the youth of imagination. Until we made it into corporate jargon only to fit the political standards we now see as freedom and the right of rights. I know I’ve been waiting a whole lot of time, this old man has nothing to do to pass the time. Hearing that many youngsters have tried to create their own tiny space or whatnot — well I might as well give it a go, but maybe I already made something similar to this. Before everything, I saw paper crumble yet I still wrote on it. Let’s see right here, how will I type everything in? Does it make noise, somehow it doesn’t. It’s quite a problem I do say, but I’ll carry on. I’ve made too many stories that I lost count, you may ask if I’ve written them — absolutely none, I lived almost all of them. But writing them would be a hassle, even knowing I might get remembered by it. Those are fit for the Boujee and faint of stature, my hands were familiar with mud. Sticks were my wooden staff, I’d create many stories out of it before I knew what a pencil felt like. The lead would’ve been my magic; the eraser, my barrier. To cast such tricks as I cadaver. How fun were those times, I wonder if you young bloods still do have those times. Honestly, even after I’ve learned the might of what a pencil may bring. I eventually held myself right back to the world, the pen would be my ride — I made a mistake and now I can’t erase it. Why would we degrade to such a thing, I do say. It looks uniform and complete, but the imagination is far from this. Are we to keep a standard to who we partake in our minds, or do the mistakes show that imagination shouldn’t be used with a pen. Lead into ink upon the paper. I override what I thought was messy. Maybe something constant isn’t always that neat, isn’t that right? Too awful is it to always stand upright and say things that sound right. But these things are common sounds we hear because we think for the other person, but when have we really thought to think for ourselves. It’s strange for a lad like you to worry such things, unless of course you grew up differently — grew up fast. Knowing that this futile life will end fast, you tried to make most of it earning and not acting out the way you should. For the future, a future where it isn’t guaranteed. I tell you, unless you want one — make today the future. Every second is a step to the future. Yesterday in which today is yesterday’s future; you won’t understand the slightest, but you are supposed to be. The feudal life you live in in a way that’s familiar to such things, it’s fleeting yet I wish that too. I made promises that some were kept, and some that were only said. How is it to keep them, I do wonder how it is so. I think you shouldn’t grow too fast, to be honest — it isn’t a part of life that you should become who you are supposed to be tomorrow today, you should live out today. Somehow, you managed to be able to say words foreign. I reminisce about my time too, somehow I’d fully understand them. You’re too young, a kind where you shouldn’t be aware of the darkness in the corner of the room. Live out; live unto the sole purpose of joy. That is the only thing that people can’t take away, but only they shall limit what you have to say. Unless, you won’t ever quit speaking in such a way. Until the day stops and ends with rest, you should be a kind of lad that doesn’t fester with thoughts — but with your imagination, alone. To be honest, It’s a drag to always say these things with authority. I have no time for songs, no time once more to play the games I loved before. But unless you want that, you shouldn’t. To an extent, I must always give way to others other than myself. How childish, I miss that. To think only for yourself and your own joy, truly something child-like that I took wish I took more. Monochrome, show me that which I cannot see. Even if it hurts me, even if I get curbed for my actions.
What about you, kid?
Will you ever acknowledge me.
I couldn’t understand at all what you meant old man, probably because you’re a grown-up. Maybe I should worry about this stuff, but I wanna grow up and make my mum proud too. Having you, maybe I’d get to learn just how grown up I should be. But I shouldn’t be? Why must I not be, I’m confused — come on, tell me. Grown up talk is something I should know too, I wanna know just how much I can do in my life. Jobs are boring, but I need one, so they say. It’s something I’ve thought about for quite some time now, what kind should I get. I wanna be everything at once, that’d be coolio. I’d be a professional yeeter, if ever that becomes a job. Just chucking out random stuff, maybe bottle flipping too. Imagine, the chief of mogging. That’d be pretty coolio don’t you think, big man. But in the end, I have known less and less of this world we live in. I even found out that our city isn’t the only city ever, now that’s something new if I do say so myself. I promise, it shouldn’t make me worry but it does. So show me, that which I cannot see. What life as a grown-up should be. I only have to play and play all year ‘round. I’d wanna go into Love too, maybe meet my happily ever after soon. All lovey-dovey and a little bit feisty. Would I be a simp? Surely not, maybe I will. Somehow, for today — I just smile and play for hours on end. Unless I won’t, until I grow older like you. Until I can finally speak professionally. You won’t like that, won’t you. It’s something about jargon — sounds like a shape from a polygon if you ask me. But why? Wouldn’t it be better if I knew much more than today. Why can’t I live out tomorrow too, this is all too confusing for me. Just tell me, why? Of all the things I shouldn’t do, why then the things I want to do. You make me learn through the actions I take, but why then should I wait until I do them. Can I just know beforehand? So that both my heart and eyes are ready. To see the reason why I must do it.
Come on gramps, tell me!
Until I understand it fully.
Someday, Love will meet you the same way I did too
It’ll show you the way hope does too.
Get Licos1ty’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
But when will that be, I wanna know
Until I am ready to Love too.
But these things aren’t made for you
You can only be ready at all times.
Someday, I wish you’d have told me.
But I’m grateful you didn’t.
I am myself and tomorrow I am too.
To whom I should learn is myself.
To the person I am before I knew.
Let it be known that I know me too.
