When We Were Young

I’m turning 25 this year—in a few months, actually—and I feel like I’m turning 40. I don’t mind getting older, but it bothers me that I haven’t felt young in a very long time. And I can only blame my sense of responsibility for that. Damn my innate nature to get things done! Damn my maturity!
 

Look at my nephew below. Look how freakin’ happy this kid is. When did my own excitement for and wonderment about life escape me? It may be too late for me to relearn how to laugh again, but there’s still hope for him. I hope he never loses this kind of happiness, the kind that we all experienced when we were young, when we just didn’t know any better.
 

Run, little Edison. Run away from adulthood as fast and as far away as you can possibly go.