When I was a child, I used to scrawl lines with thick bright crayons, ruggedly colouring in the spaces between. I used to play by the small collection of water in my backyard. I couldn’t fly, but always made believe that I could. Used to travel to the end of the street on our three wheeled tricycle, it always seemed like the end of the world to us. Used to play in the park with friends who didn’t need to know anything but to run and hide. Frolic around the garden with a friend of the opposite gender and feel nothing at all. Feel like an alien in a different country after an hour long trip. Build Lego block houses with stories of eccentric families inside. Write ineligible stories that always ended with a happily ever after. Everything’s a surprise, everything a wonder on its own.

When I was a child, I used to scrawl lines and still do, although they already know when they want to go. I brush, thick globs of paint and embed it with little fractions of details that usually go unnoticed. I play with water now, inside think plastic balloons and girls as my target. The sky is mine to conquer now, with diamond shaped pieces of paper and nylon strings as defense. Knees buckle now, trying to hold an intelligent conversation with someone pretty. Friends turn around now, cracking they knuckles, an evil idea taking root in their mind. I know now where America is, where water is scarce with nothing but the sand, what lurks beneath the deep and tranquil sea. I write stories now, with a beginning, a plot and an end. A surprise is harder to come by now.

When I was a child, I used to scrawl lines and still do, but now with vector points and calculated curves. I run after clean printed notes with number on them now. The present isn’t important anymore, nor in the past, life is all in the moments to come. Clothes come in packages now, with neat rich colors that go together. I know about places not marked in maps now, places where once you go, you never come back. I know about etiquettes now, about manners and how to split my persona into pieces, and wear a mask for everyone I meet. Judge has a deeper meaning now, with interconnected stings of judgment connecting all of us together. I know more about hate now and how it breeds with just the presence of someone. Loss and how quickly memory fades. Surprises cease to exist.