They said I’m just a kid with a noisy mind speaking out loud without thinking.
“Hopeless and irritating”, they cursed.
Some raised voices, some raised hands to beat some maturity into me.
“Poor kid”, they pitied.
You see — I’m an adult.
I love being a kid. I loved playing video games in arcades, loved joking about silly stuff, loved sketching, loved licking cream from my hands.
I guess. I guess I loved a little too much.
I still do.
“What’s up dude? Why are you always being a jerk” — sometimes I daydream and frequently I imagine myself being angry at Time.
If you’re a kid promise me that you’ll make a pinky promise with Time. Don’t let it run away from you. Hold hands. Love each other. Hug. Kiss.
Sadly, there’s a problem.
Time isn’t a good friend. It’s bad company. It’s naughty, it’s crazy. It doesn’t get any presents from Santa.
Time doesn’t want you.
Someday Time told me — I know I have let you down and I’m not going to apologize. I don’t owe you anything.
I cried, cried hard.
When my palms become warm by my tears dropping hard — I realized. I know it’s going to be alright.
I need to believe in me. I need to let go of time. Break the promise. You know what I learnt after so many fights with Time?
You are Time.
Just kidding, go fuck yourself. I have got work to do.