I used to think that everybody was happy, that the world would always shine even when blood was falling. I used to think that even though we could cry we could smile, and we would always be happy.

It hurts when time begins to stab you in the back. It hurts when importance fades from mind and faces drown in meaningless words, rushing back inside to where it's locked tight and no one can unearth it.

I never wanted to grow up, because I hated what adults were. I hated how they lied, how they treated everyone else inferior. I hated how they forgot to smile and laugh and they were weighted down by "neccessities" of housework. I hated how there was nothing inside them but empty shells. I hated how they'd faced this world and they'd had to bow down, and they wouldn't stand up anymore. I hated how adults always rushed, they never took their time, they always had something else to do. I hated how they couldn't stop and look up at the sky and cry for crying's sake.

I hated how they forgot what it was like to believe in innocence. In love.
In life.





And now I'm becoming one of them.