To whom is may concern:
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult
in order to accept the responsibilities of a 6 year old.
The tax base is lower. I want to be six again.
I want to go to McDonald's and think it's the best place
in the world to eat. I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud
puddle and make waves with rocks. I want to think that
M & M's are better than money ' cause you can eat them.
I want to play kickball during recess and stay up on Christmas
Eve waiting to hear Santa and Rudolph on the roof.
I long for the days when life was simple. When all you
knew were your colors, the addition tables and simple
nursery rhymes, but it didn't bother you because you didn't
know what you didn't know, and you didn't care.
I want to go to school and have snack time, recess, gym,
and field trips. I want to be happy because I don't know
what should make me upset. I want to think the world
is fair, and everyone in it is honest and good. I want to
believe
that anything is possible.
Sometime, while I was maturing, I learned too much.
I learned of nuclear weapons, prejudice, starving and
abused kids, lies, unhappy marriages, illness, pain and
mortality. I want to be six again. I want to think
that everyone, including myself, will live forever
because I don't know the concept of death.
I want to be oblivious to the complexity of life, and be overly
excited by the little things again. I want television to be
something I watch for fun, not something I use for escape
from the things I should be doing. I want to live knowing
the little things I find exciting will always make me as happy
as when I first learned them.....I want to be six again.
I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being
aware of only the things that directly concerned me.
I want to be naive enough to think that if I'm happy,
so is everyone else. I want to walk down the beach and think
only of the sand beneath my feet, and the possibility if finding
that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for.
I want to spend that afternoons riding my bike, letting
the adults worry about time, the dentist, and how to
find the money to fix the old car. I want to wonder what
I'll do when I grow up, and what I'll be, who I'll be, and
not worry about what I'll do if this doesn't work.
I want that time back.
I want to use it now as an escape, so when my computer
crashes, or I have a mountain of paperwork, or two
depressed friends, or a fight with a significant other, or
bittersweet memories of times gone by, or second
thoughts about so many things, I can travel back, and
build a snowman, without thinking about anything
except whether the snow sticks together, or what I can
possible use for the snowman's mouth.
I want to be six again.
by: Mike W.