Childhood is brilliant. You’re amazed by the simplest of concepts and able to play pretend so vividly that it’s reality for you. You’re not yet at an age where anything matters for more than a few minutes…no worrying about how you look, why (s)he never called back, deadlines. No anxiety surrounding overwhelming debt, or difficult tests, or which direction your life is headed in. Not a care in the world beyond your imagination. I understand it’s a stage, and one that inevitably ends. But are we really meant to pull a complete 180 and grow into these amoebic, money-hungry robots that live by rote and value the personal lives of others above all else? What happened to the beautiful nature of finding amusement in simplicity? Where has it gone, and is it lost forever?