Living used to be easy. It used to be simple, effortless. But then we got older and the every day became more difficult to get through — it became complicated.
The simplest of pleasures that we once knew, no longer catch our interests. The little details of the world that held us in wonder, now hold no place in our new realities.
It saddens me to think about all those adventures I had growing up, knowing that nothing so simple is likely ever to catch my interest again for long enough to hold meaning — it saddens me more to think of all the adventures I will never have.
What was it about being young that left us feeling so alive? Was it the naivety? The ignorance? Was it the lack of stimuli in the form of drugs and alcohol? Or was the world itself simpler and more appealing to the curious eye? Can what was lost ever be found again?