Grown up, I wish that I could say that and not feel guilty. I am now twenty-two and ment to be grown up. But I don't feel like it. Sometimes I wish I could start all over again, right from when I was a little baby.
I think that's why I have reacentley converted from being Christian to bhuddist, I thought that reincarnation was a supurb idea. Now all I have to do is wait.
I spent hundreds with my phscoligist trying to find my inner child all to no avail. She is probally as I write this wondering around wall-mart lost, desperately trying to find me. I so badly want to be five again. And I want to wee in my bed and not care and I want to make gargantious mud pies, but I cant because I am old old, old, old and grown up!
I want to belive in castles in the sky, and I want to wear pink frilly dresses and dance around in circles witn no underwear on and I want to eat ice cream every single day. I don't wat to go to work and slave all day. I don't want sweaty fat managers pinching my ass, I don't want to eat ninety five percent fat free cardbored lasasgane, and I don't want to get married and have kids and clean the house.
I want to paint pictures using my fingers and chocolate sauce and strawberry jam, I want to love everyone I meet and I want to make a lego car and I want to dress up the cat. I don't want to hoover the house and I don't want to pluck my eyebrows, I don't want to pick out the weeds or go to the gym. I don't want to shave my legs and I don't want to have sex.
I want to count shells and draw on the wall. I want to cuddle all my cats all day, I want to paddle in pools and make jam tarts. I don't want to type pages of "intresting facts" I don't want to go for a coffee; I don't want to buy an iron. I don't want to fix the tap I don't want to meet the mananging director. I don't want to "run and make some tea" I don't want to pay the rent.
I want to kiss a frog, I want to sleep in a wendy house, I want to collect funny looking pebbles, I want to make pancakes, I want to have a new set of crayons, I want to sing at the top of my voice in the town centre. I don't want to grow my nails, I don't want to have a dinner party, and I don't want to put every thing in boxes. I don't want to shop in Harvy Nichols; I don't want to save my money.
I want to know who set me up. I want to know who stole it away. I want to know why it happened, I want an explianation, I want to have it back and I don't want to grow up.