Just because I’m all grown up doesn’t mean I’m all grown up inside.

Despite being a senior in the Ateneo, I actually have plenty of free time on my hands. Most time I would have my two youngest siblings come barging in through the door asking to do this and that and I oblige, just because I believe that at their age they should develop their creative minds. When they’re old enough, I don’t want them to look back through their childhood with boredom. I want them to remember that they were able to do plenty of things, even if it isn’t outside in the backyard having adventures, at least they are able to have a little excitement at home. Most times we do artsy stuff. This was a few days ago when we discovered the boxes of unused clay in the attic and decided to make our own stories on paper. A couple days ago we also made a paper machete and painted it red. Up till now it’s unfinished.

As a child I don’t have a lot of memories that particularly stand out and I used to think it was sad. I wish I could relive my childhood and do more things. And then I realized that I could actually pick some memories out if I tried hard enough and focused on them; like they’re just stored somewhere deep inside my brain but they’re there.

Childhood is precious. I don’t want my siblings to throw it away by not having enough fun. And I certainly don’t want them stopping themselves from doing things just because their big sister has grown up.


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