today, i watched a 10 year old boy dance with some strips of plastic hanging from the top of a door. i saw his excitement when entering a massive freezer, and his defiance when he changed the sign on the door from “open” to closed, and his annoyance when i told him to get out of the restaurant kitchen. it all amused him so much.
i was like that once. we were all like that, once upon a time.
we watched movies with happy endings and believed our lives would be like them and their happily ever afters. we watched movies with sad endings and became confused at why people loved them so much but cried. and we watched comedies, staring at the adults intently, and forcing ourselves to laugh when they did so they’d think we understood the joke too.
for me, the first film i had ever seen in a cinema was titanic. my eyes were covered in the naked scene, and i never really understood the handprint scene. but most of all, i didn’t understand why jack died, and my mother cried, and then listened to the soundtrack of my heart will go on on TAPE, over and over again.
however, simply seeing a film in the cinema for the first time made me happy.
but now, it is so much harder for us to amuse ourselves; so much more difficult to be happy. there is the constant complaint about boredom, about a lack of time, a lack of life, yet too much of it at the same time. we’ve forgotten that a simple piece of candy could allow us to be content for about half an hour, before we went in search of something else. we’ve forgotten that our imaginations allowed any and every boring scenario to be exciting. we’ve forgotten to make ourselves happy, rather than waiting for others to do it for us.
we’ve forgotten them so clearly that if we tried to do it again, all we’d feel is stupidity.
maybe this is a result of our maturity, age and understanding.
maybe, due to this maturity, age and understanding, we do not grow wiser, but sadder and lonelier.