When I was little…
… I hid my hands in the sleeves of my sweater and told people that I had lost my arms.
… I would have restarted every time I realized I would lose the game. Now the decisions remain made and no one asks you if you want to save or not the changes made.
… I slept with all the stuffed animals because I didn't want any of them to get upset, but they didn't get mad at me either, they somehow had this ability to know that they were all important to me, something he rarely saw in humans…
… I had a pen of those with 4 colors and I was trying to press all the heads at once…
… I poured juice into the glass and pretended to drink shots…
… I was trying to drink milk with my tongue because that's what I saw in Aristocratic Cats…
… The hardest decision was to choose between 101 Dalmatians and Donald Duck.
… I was hiding behind the door waiting to scare someone, but every time that someone was late to show up and I would go out because I had to pee.
… I pretended to sleep so that my father would carry me in his arms to the bed and then kiss me on the forehead…
… I always thought that the moon was following our car and we smiled at her happily.
… I used to watch two raindrops go down the window and we think it's a race. Now I look at them and weigh decisions or regret memories.
… I only opened the computer for Paint or Mario, now I turn it off at night and I hurry to write this so I can get back to work.
… The only fake friends I had were the imaginary ones, and my best friend was Quickly, a purple rabbit with a broken shoulder strap, who I had no idea how I gave his name, but he sounded nice and, although shabby, didn't I gave it up until I grew up. He lives today, and sometimes keeps an eye on me on sleepless nights. Now… I better not talk about friends ..
… I liked to play in the shower and I tried to swim in the tub, thinking I was a mermaid. When I was growing up, I didn't go to the beach for a long time because I didn't look like a mermaid. Nobody told me, when I was little, that it was okay to look like a man.
… I ran to homework only when I heard my mother's heels on the stairs and she would catch me every time, because it was the hot monitor. Now I do them, I check them and I also argue.
… I wanted to grow and wear heels so much, and now I do it so rarely that it didn't seem worth the price.
… In reality I was afraid of Santa Claus and Santa Claus, now I am still afraid of lies, illusions and the clothes that people wear.
… I rarely accepted help, because I was big and I could be alone. Now no one rushes to help you like then and it's as if you feel like being big and always able to be alone.
I didn't take pills when my mother asked me to, only after she left the room. I still pray with menstrual pain pills and I want them from the human hand, but without leaving the room. And I would have really wanted to have invented pills for disappointments and pain in my soul, I would have taken them with my fist if they had been.
… And, finally, the wounds in my knees and elbows healed infinitely faster than a broken heart, then I had no problem falling repeatedly and being wound over wound. I didn't even have a problem going to see them. Now we run away from it like incense and walk past happiness for fear of being hurt.
Remember when we were kids and found happiness in a candy, a ball and worthless things? When did we allow ourselves to run with our mouths to our ears, fearless, embracing the unknown, dirty and happy? When was I telling people the truth in front of me without a trace of remorse and everyone was ours? Remember when I loved a lot and without fear? Do you remember your grandparents' hands and the whole universe that started from them?
Remember when we were kids and we couldn't wait to grow up? What the hell was going on in our heads?
Happy birthday to the child who remained in us, to our souls who pamper themselves from time to time to walk barefoot and roll in the mud, even if we also bear the consequences afterwards.