“Lets leave this place
And say that we escaped
Well say that there’s no difference between right and wrong tonight
We’ll leave no trace of plans that we have made
So they can’t find us
And take what is ours…”
There is a certain beauty to innocence, an alluring characteristic to ignorance, and an addicting property to irresponsibility. But as we ”grow up” there is an expectation to maintain a certain level of maturity and dignity. There is a social expectation that we must act proper, keep a calm demeanor and avoid “childish” actions. Our jobs, our family, our lives seem to demand that we act “grown up”. There is no room for error, for fun or spontaneity because we have obligations to fulfill, asses to kiss, and moral standards to uphold (often not our own).
Growing up is something to cringe at in our society. Bills, stress, jobs, school…. they all suck. For most of us, we forget to enjoy life because we are too busy being adults. We forget to play with LEGO’s, we forget to sit on a swing in the park to see how high we can go, and we forget who we really are. I want to challenge everyone who reads this to do something fun. Not because you need to, or have to… but because you want to do it. Forget what other people will think, throw caution to the wind for a moment and do something just for the hell of it. Don’t let growing up take something that is yours. Don’t get so caught up in being “grown up” that you forget to live life.
- J
March 21st, 2011 at 12:58 pm
Growing up is overrated. Responsibility is great, but it does not have to equal staid, stoic, or stuck-up. I remind myself all the time that it’s perfectly okay — fantastic, even! — for me to jump up and down and turn in circles in a random gas station parking lot because I’m excited about something.
March 28th, 2011 at 12:25 pm
Hey, I got your reply in my email, but I don’t see it here. Did your own spam filter kick you out?
Anyway…ways to stay “young” and keep life fresh… I wear crazy, multi-colored socks. I layer clothing that doesn’t really match. I re-read the poem “Warning” by Jenny Joseph at least once a year. (Google it, it’s awesome.) I play on playgrounds even when I’m by myself. I indulge in pillow fights, I sit on the floor even when there’s a chair, and I try not to be too ladylike.