Childhood Personal Story 

Childhood personal story - Resistance is…Futile?

There were a lot of things as a child that I didn't understand.

For instance, I didn't understand how that was supposed to be okay when my mom told me we would all die someday.

I didn't understand why eating too much ice cream was bad…it just seemed like a cruel rule I was resistant to follow.

Brushing teeth, bathing, not staying out after dark…what was the point of all of this unnecessary and most ridiculous way to conducting life?

Life felt out to get me, out to steel my precious and sweet childlike freedom.  I was the victim of irrational rules and conduct unfitting of anyone that wanted to actually have a fun and enjoyable life.  But those things are necessary, right?  To live long…to prosper?  Perhaps…perhaps not.

Though some things and mindsets changed as I grew up and yet even as adults, don’t we still battle the very same things?

Those emotions that hit us when we question the cruelty of death and why we are given only an allotted time to make use of life…don’t we ask the purpose?

The aspects of work structures…why must so much precious time be spent at places we groan over going to each and every weekday, when we could instead live free pursuing each and every sweet dream and ambition in our hearts?

As my life has progressed I have personally found myself stepping backwards into time and retracing those beautiful moments of youth when life was so simple…so black and white…so carefree and so fun.

Childhood Personal Story - All Grown Up

That time when you did things solely because, well, because you wanted to.  It was never anything that required grand thought in carrying out or figuring out.  The biggest pending questions were always…can my friend play today?  What color of game piece will I choose?  Who’s going to go first and can my friend sleep over because were having too much fun to part?

What is my point in all of this…what am I trying to convey?

Inside, you see, I’ve been screaming; screaming because reality is just too damn real for me.  Screaming because everyone, or so it seems, is living and participating in existences not of their choosing or desire.

Like a cruel system of irony, of forced hands and forced conduct, when can we breathe?  When can we wake up and be bold enough to live?

Is it so wrong to throw off normal systems of security that comes at the cost of mindless droning to receive?

Is it wrong to open our minds to just being…existing…living…thriving…feeling…experiencing as we are moved to do so instead of all pre-approved and planned?

Is it?

I wish to be free.

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