color my world

"But how much time could a man spend remembering the best of boyhood?  What about enjoying the best of old age?  Or was the best of old age just that - the longing for the best of boyhood..."

- Philip Roth, Everyman

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i can tell why my professor chose not to discuss adulthood much in class and had us write a paper on it instead.  everything good declines - it's a real downer.  with the exception of wisdom, aging is pretty much a cognitive descent for most.  and don't forget the wrinkles and responsibility!

it is depressing to sit around and realize that right now is the height of our lives, and the feeling of oldness will only sink in deeper and deeper after a certain point.  (people have been giving me the idea that point may be as uncomfortably near as twenty-one).

after hardly two decades of experience, i hear people yearn to return to days filled with crayons and nap time.  as a kid, i'd always be "saving" my best coloring books (for what exactly, i still don't know).  refusing to color in  them, i'd tuck them away with affectionate care, only flipping through them every now and again to visualize which of my aspiring ninety-six crayons would, one supposed day, make it onto a particular page.  eventually i grew a bit, just looked at them one day, and was like, "wow, i do not even want to color in you anymore, sesame street special christmas edition coloring book of fun."  and then i hated myself.  i had unnecessarily robbed myself of a joy i'd continously tease myself about.  and for what?  was i afraid of the consequences of enjoying myself? 

unreasonably cautious - that pretty much sums up how i lived my childhood years.  my pleasure pilfering prudence very early on has already manifested into a fire for letting myself... have fun.  i realize now i'm often unconsciously making up for prior self-imposed, but mostly parental, restrictions.  (it's true - if you don't let your kids do anything, they'll want to do everythinggg!)  i just don't want to look back and feel like my life was full of empty coloring books.

the only thing i can imagine that would be worse than longing for the days of youth would be to have nothing to long for.