threeinchestall

I, am slightly worried about this world.
Walking the other day after work, I passed by a house, after putting my iPod on pause to listen, a father came outside to talk to his crying daughter. He said, "No, I won't let you in. You never ever play outside and.." At that point, I turned on the music until my the dial turned all the way and I couldn't hear myself breathing anymore. Were those words actually muttered to a child no older than eight? Did she really want to go and watch T.V. even though that's all that occupies her time daily? Is this world turning our future into robots, computers and complete swarms of nothing? You know the answer.
I am to the point where I would grab every child and teach them how to ride a non-motorized bike. (Hello, fat America.) I am to the extent where I will show them what the sun feels like after rising out of the pool and watching the water disappear. I am to the limit where I would take them adventuring just so they could experience what a true skinned knee feels like, and feeling too tough to cry.
Is it depressing that I seem to have more life in me? I remember the guts and the words and the laughter and the energy I held when I was barley young. Exploring. Finding the old milk truck. Finding toads in the creek. Searching for pebbles on the railroad and mountains of fools gold and unvealing all sorts of treasures. I remember the best friends who would have rock fights, explore the infinite forests, throw their bodies into freezing water and never leave each others side.
Eight years old and the world was in my mud drenched hands. Eight years old and I never wanted the day to fade into a dark shade. Eight years old and even rainy days weren't spent watching T.V. Now, even years later I still believe I'm living in that summer. I still believe in running until reaching nowhere. I still believe that the adult on the end of my age only means I'm growing younger.
I, am slightly worried about this world.
This world, it strives off of suffering, crying, and loosing. With the absence of these emotions we are not human but rather the atoms that the scientists truly say we are.
The drugs we chase with vodka and the doctors we rely on are only the silver lining. A lining to cover the disgusting yet, somehow beautiful world we have placed ourselves so conveniently into. We were meant to bite our tongues, bear our souls and live with courage and fear.
We all laugh, exhale, inhale, waste, engulf, like, breathe, race, stop and become. But are we? Are we really human? Or are we shamelessly hiding from the truth and running from the voices that aren't just imaginary.
I, am slightly worried about this world.

-h.