Let’s go back in time

Alexandre Barbosa-0a949e54

Let’s go back in time to when as children, we would run through the streets rolling tyres with sticks or our palms, pretending to race ourselves. Basking in the euphoria of running around and playing, never caring how dirty we got or the spanks we were going to get after.

As a child, when I saw the older boys sit together in front of Musa’s kiosk talking about things I thought were adult-ish, I would wish to grow fast so that one day too, I and my friends could sit together and talk about those adult things.

Time grew large wings and flew, dragging me into the complicated life of an adult with no manuals or guides on how to maneuver the adult life especially one in a land far from home. And  then I realized, man, adulthood wasn’t rosy at all.

Responsibility and the very controversial concept of maturity weighed on my shoulders threatening to push me down and bury me if care was not taken.

Sighs. Adulthood is hard.

Not only do I have so much on my mind. The ever indecisive me have to make hard decisions ‘independently’. Let’s skip the complicated and complex phenomenon guised as romance and love life. I have to tread cautiously on this foreign soil. I have to deal with being broke and Oh, I have to think about the special paper, yes money. Chase the bag some boys would say and my over-thinking self would wonder why don’t they say catch the bag instead. Am I supposed to be chasing after what probably runs faster than the flash for the rest of my life? In the end, I get headaches because my brain can’t handle everything (that means spending my  money on painkillers). It is in your adult years that you would realize that “life tuff” isn’t some random trendy joke.

I honestly wish I was a child again, back in my mother land. Innocent and free as a bird. Without a care in the world. I want to be happy for no reason and not feel depressed thinking about my university grades which apparently is supposed to determine my future. I want my parents to make decisions for me and give me baby boy treatments when I’m sick. I don’t want to chase any bag or face sapa  anymore.

I just want to run through the streets of my neighbourhood once again, giggling with my friends as we race each other with our tyres with the adults shouting after us.


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