WHEN I GROW UP

The uncertainty that change brings can be a scary thing - be it small, like changing the brand of your shampoo, or substantially more major, like changing your post code. Change is even scarier when it's not of your own accord. It creeps past you, organic and invisible, waiting patiently to be noticed. When you finally do, after getting over that split-second moment of panic and confusion, you're left rhetorically questioning yourself. It's like waking up in the fall, only realising that spring is gone. I speak from recently-gained experience. A few days ago I caught myself saying a string of four words known all too well by little kids - when I grow up. Wait a minute. Hold up. I am already grown up. When the hell did that happen? When we're young (and wild and free), we see adults as boring creatures who just don't get us. Why would we want to turn into them? At this peculiar age when we teeter between two hoods, we get over-engrossed with not wanting to grow up, instead of focusing on the present. We slowly lose our innocence and end up jaded, turning into the people we swore we'd never become. Why, though? I still believe we don't have to give up on our childhood dreams and fantasies. Sure, I might never become a vet or a naturalist, but I would never forgo my love of animals and the natural world. These little sparks of childish wonder are what keeps us young at heart. Don't ever get desensitised to all that exists around you. It's the same thing with planning. By now you should know I'm not very good at it - or...
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