Growing up is something everyone used to like.
As a child, I wanted to be free—free like a dove flying in the sky, looking down at everyone.
A dove that has no responsibilities but to fly only. So I did everything to be free. I woke up early to watch cartoons, ate too fast to play with my friends, and when I came home, I would have so many bruises because I tried so many things to fly like a dove, but failed once again. Then my mother would scold me, saying, “What you are doing is not fun” That is why my mother used to hate it when I wanted to fly like a dove when I was a child, but I was a stubborn little kid—a silly and naive little child.
so to stop me, my mother locked my bedroom, grounded me to stop me from seeing my friends, and gave me responsibilities like washing dishes or taking out the trash. But I didn’t want that, so I started escaping using the window by my bed, hating my mother, and saying, “I want to grow up immediately." I even remember saying "When will I grow up?"
But now that I’m grown up...
As an adult, I still long to be free like a dove flying in the sky, where people no longer stare at me and I just look down at everyone. And so, to stop the stare of people, I locked myself in my bedroom, no longer has appetite to eat, I also stop seeing my friends let myself rot until I numbed myself by escaping all responsibilities and the feelings of growing up.
and so my mother said, “When will you grow up?” as she sighed looking at me
And I just stared at her, looked down at my own body with scars and cuts, and said, “What I’m doing is not fun anymore...” as I keep looking at the wrist of failed attempt of being dove who still long for a freedom once again.
Messages
Have you ever thought of writing a book when you lock yourself away? It might create something beautiful, like this post was very beautiful in a sad way.