…is a funny thing.
When I see little kids playing soccer I want to be nine years old again.
When I see teenager girls talk talk talk and laugh laugh laugh I definitly not want to be a teen again.
When I see babies in stroller I think it would be nice being a baby again, that my parents take care of all day long.
When I see those who have lifelong vacation after a long work life, I’m perfectly happy with my own age, when I see their health issues.
Somehow age is an illusion to me. We are as young or old as we feel. It’s not the years that counts, it’s your experiences and your sence that makes your age, I think.
I found a fresh blog written by a person, which have thoughts that could have been my thoughts twentyfive years ago. But I’d never dared to share them at that age. This twenty year old writer is braver than I was 🙂
This was the post I found:
It is difficult to change… Introvert, Loneliness, Depression