strayed thoughts

When I think of all the time I have wasted I could cry…I was listening to a song by Hilary duff when suddenly I realized something rather important. Perhaps not really that went along the lines of the song but what I was thinking off last night…or in fact dreaming.
And there I knew another article was on its way. And I decided to pen it down.
Three things happened. All of them were rather a strayed bunch of thoughts.
When I was on my way to my school, I saw a little kid clutching his father’s hand with his mother fussing about with his hair. It brought a smile to my face and I looked past time when I was reminded about the time when my father tied me ponies and my mother fussed about with the breakfast…I missed being my father’s little girl and my mother’s annoying brat. Though I don’t show it, I must agree innocence it doesn’t belong to me anymore…
The next thought belonged to my sister’s wardrobe. I remember as a kid she used to wear a blue spaghetti top, which was one of her favorites I suppose because no matter what the day was…she appeared from the bathroom wearing it. It had holes now, apparently it was about five or six years ago. It made me go back to the time when we rolled in mud, played endlessly on the swings…and had food fights and catfights over some of the most absurd reasons. It brought tears to my eyes, but more surprisingly I smiled.

The last yet a very poignant thought was when I realized I had grown. And I couldn’t go back in time. But somehow I wasn’t sad…though I did feel bad. “I love my past. I love my present. I'm not ashamed of what I've had, and I'm not sad because I have it no longer” – Colette. I was happy to see the present. I was happy to see the people around me…and most of all I was happy of what I had become. Maybe it was a young age to experience things, but perhaps it was how its meant to be. Love makes me weep. Love makes me feel its much better without it. But that would never happen. Because its love that fills this world. And it’s all that we need. Surprisingly there’s very few who realize it.