When I was a child, life was so much fun but still all I wanted was to be an adult. I was always fascinated by all the great and interesting things that adults were able to do. Every year that passed I was grew more excited because I was getting closer to being an adult. Now that I am an adult I wish I could be a kid again. Its quite amazing how fast your opinion can change. All the activities that I can do now do not compare to even one day as being a child. On the other hand I still enjoy being an adult and I still have a lot to experience. My life as a child and as an adult is vastly different but still is similar in small ways.

When I was a child I was allowed to do basically anything that I wanted to do. I would go outside, play with my friends and play sports all day long. Being a child was fun and had many positive sides to it. As a child I never had to worry about having to work or if I had a test the next day. Life was fairly stress free. All I had to worry about was what time my favorite cartoons were going to be on Saturday morning or what my friends down the road were doing. On Saturdays I would wake up bright and early and sit in the living room in front of the television or go outside to meet my friends for a game of tag. As I would be sitting around the house, all I could smell was my mother cooking breakfast. It was nice to have someone cook for you, and not have to worry about feeding yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I still remember some of the wonderful memories when I was young. I lived with my parents including my favorite Tito. Since I was eight-year-old as my parents had been busy with their business. My parents lived in a beautiful wooden, colourful house with two rooms only. The front lawn was kept clean and bare. At the back, though my grandmother had planted a number of vegetables for our consumption, there was also a chicken coop and a house for dog. My growing up years were often spent playing and exploring. I used to play soldiers, police and thief, and hide and seek with my playmates around grandfather's land. My grandfather,on the other hand,taught me about the plants and how to look after them. My grandmother was a good cook and I remembered hanging around the kitchen to help. During those days,we seldom watched television as we were just busy having fun doing other things. Besides, My grandfather also planted many kind of fruit trees such a rambutan, papaya, and guava. My favorite was a rambutan tree which grew to look like a giant. I really had a great time staying with my grandparents. I used to wish that these moments would never end. I would always cherish the beautiful memories of my childhood days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was not the worst day of my life. I did not crumble under the weight of the injustice of it all. I did not make a spectacle of myself, drowning in tears in front of the world to see. Nor did I retreat to bed and pull the covers over my head, rejecting the world of my peers. I graduated.

It was not awful. I did not sit there listening to speeches given by peers (most of whom I can't even call acquaintances) and fight an endless soliloquy in my head, declaring that their cares were silly and that they knew little of what I'd been through. I was relieved that although I felt older than them, I didn't experience the thoughts which I'd feared would mark me as a self-absorbed and unkind person. I wasn't overwhelmed by my sense of being different.

But, I did feel grief about not having had a "normal," happy high school experience. My five years were not filled with events linking me to my classmates and leading to long friendships with them. Rather, they were increasingly frightening, lonely and challenging to my sense of self.

Looking back at high school and reliving those years was scary. I felt as if I'd been dragged back in time to ancient pains, ones which I wished to dismiss and forget.