An Uplifting Archive -
©Ouija Cat 2002


I Want To Be Six Again
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 (AUTHOR UNKNOWN)
 
 To Whom It May Concern:
 I am  hereby officially tendering my resignation
 as an adult in order to accept the responsibilities
 of a 6 year old. . .
 The tax base is lower. . .
 
 I want to go to McDonald's and think
 it's the best place in the world to eat.
 I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle
 and make waves with rocks.
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 I want to think M&Ms are better than money
 'cause you can eat them.
 I want to play kickball during recess
 and stay up on Christmas Eve
 waiting to hear Santa and Rudolph on the roof.
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 I long for the days when life was simple.
 When all you knew were your colors,
 the addition tables, and simple nursery rhymes,
 but it didn't bother you
 because you didn't know what you didn't know
 and you didn't care.
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 I want to go to school and
 have snack time, recess, gym, and field trips.
 I want to be happy because
 I don't know what should make me upset.
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 I want to think the world is fair
 and everyone in it is honest and good.
 I want to believe that anything is possible.
 Sometime, while I was maturing,
 I learned too much.
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 I learned of nuclear weapons,
 starving and abused kids,
 and unhappy marriages.
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 I want to be six again.
 · .··. ·..· .··. ·..· ·
 I want to think that everyone,
 including myself, will live forever
 because I don't know the concept of death.
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 I want to be oblivious to the complexity of life,
 and be overly excited by the little things again.
 I want television to be something I watch for fun,
 not something I use for escape
 from the things I should be doing.
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 I want to live knowing the little things
 I find exciting will always make me as happy
 as when I first learned them.
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 I want to be six again.
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 I remember not seeing the world as a whole,
 but rather being aware of only the things
 that directly concerned me.
 · .··. ·..· .··. ·..· ·
 I want to be naive enough to think
 that if I'm happy, so is everyone else.
 · .··. ·..· .··. ·..· ·
 I want to walk down the beach
 and think only of the sand beneath my feet,
 and the possibility of finding
 that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for.
 · .··. ·..· .··. ·..· ·
 I want to spend my afternoons
 climbing trees and riding my bike,
 letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist,
 and how to find the money to fix the car.
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 I want to wonder what I'll do when I grow up,
 not worry what I'll do if this doesn't work out.
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 I want that time back.
 I want to use it now as an escape,
 so that when my computer crashes,
 or I have a mountain of paperwork,
 or two depressed friends,
 or second thoughts about so many things.
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 I want to travel back and build a snowman
 without thinking about anything
 except whether the snow sticks together
 and what I can possibly use
 for the snowman's mouth.
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 I want to be six again.



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