I Want To Be Six Again

To Whom It May Concern:

I am hereby officially tendering my
resignation as an adult in order to accept
the responsibilities of a 6 year old. . .
The tax base is lower. . .

I want to go to Jollibee and think it's the
best place in the world to eat.

I want to sail paper boats across a fresh mud
puddle and make waves with rocks.

I want to think M&Ms are better than money
'cause you can eat them.

I want to play ball during recess and
stay up on Christmas Eve waiting to
hear Santa and Rudolph on the roof.

I long for the days when life was simple.
When all you knew were your colors, the
addition tables, and simple nursery rhymes,
but it didn't bother you because you didn't know
what you didn't know and you didn't care.

I want to go to school and have snack time,
recess, PE, and field trips.
I want to be happy because I don't know
what should make me upset.

I want to think the world is fair
and everyone in it is honest and good.
I want to believe that anything is possible.

Sometime, while I was maturing,
I learned too much.

I learned of nuclear weapons,
starving and abused kids,
and unhappy marriages.

I want to be six again.

I want to think that everyone,
including myself, will live forever
because I don't know the concept of death.

I want to be oblivious to the
complexity of life, and be overly excited
by the little things again.

I want television to be something I watch
for fun, not something I use for escape
from the things I should be doing.

I want to live knowing the little things
I find exciting will always make me as
happy as when I first learned them.

I want to be six again.

I remember not seeing the world as a
whole, but rather being aware of only the
things that directly concerned me.

I want to be naive enough to think
that if I'm happy, so is everyone else.

I want to walk down the beach
and think only of the sand beneath my feet,
and the possibility of finding
that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for.

I want to spend my afternoons
climbing trees and riding my bike,
letting the grownups worry about time, and
how to find the money to fix the house.

I want to wonder what I'll do when I grow up,
not worry what I'll do if this doesn't work out.

I want that time back.

I want to use it now as an escape,
so that when my computer crashes,
or I have a mountain of paperwork,
or two depressed friends,
or second thoughts about so many things.

I want to be six again......

but I can't. Anonymous (with modifications from yours truly)