I am twenty but sometimes I wonder, what if I was ten?
I was ten once but maybe I would change things about my reminiscent ten-year-old self. Being ten was quite a joy. The joy of being in class four. The happiness of flocking around in the midday sun on a weekend despite having assignments to tackle.
The bliss of coming home dusty, dirty, and exhausted from running, playing and messing around and not wanting to take a shower but just to take a good night’s sleep. The vague reminiscence of running in the tall grass in the field. The grass tickling my little feet. Being an empty disk, learning new things. At times ignorance was bliss.
If I were still ten, I would change a lot of things. To be honest, I would take my time to gain a lot of knowledge. I was a reader of books, but I feel like I should have discovered a lot more at a young age. I was thirsty for knowledge but not thirsty enough to satisfy.
Not that I wanted to know the formula for finding my weight on the moon but some advanced knowledge in things would not hurt. I mean how amazing would it be to know different kinds of animals all around the world. How easy it would be to be fluent in the English language. To be able to tell a story that bedazzles the teachers and students. To be able and unlock knowledge that excites the mind and that brings fantasies to life. It would be fun to know some things exist and some that are just non-existent.
If I were ten, I would enjoy my young self. I would tell my young self to live my young life to the fullest without regrets and just be the ten-year-old me. Play around, gain knowledge, sleep enough, make friends, keep them, and bloom with enthusiasm for every activity.