People change.

Some part is lost, and another part previously alienic takes its place.

The childishness. Where is it? Is it meant to be out of our reach after a certain age, a certain phase? Perhaps it is possible to be childish yet mature, to have the carefree laughter back, the freely given smiles and free-flowing jokes. They've given way to something graver, a deeper tone in our voices, a certain purpose in our stride and serious topics. It seems to me we're becoming jaded. No way to reverse the effects of time, of life, riding fluidly towards the future, and causing wrinkles to appear on our still-youthful minds. Real white hair to sprout from the scalp, the dying nourisher of that strand. No wonder it seems harder to make older folk laugh. It is not like we can dump all our possessions somewhere, someplace and leave them to face the weather.. heavier and larger, the stacks pile on and we carry on walking. walking. walking.. our backs decaying, like the crushing force of a boulder upon a leaf, a dried twig. And we walk in a straight line, all ages lining up, like a magnificent queue at the check-out line.

And I wonder, where are you taking me to? what have i left behind?