I’ve heard, as one gets older one loses their abilities.
It’s not true. Now, decades later I have time, sweet, precious enduring-time:
time to write, to create, to pursue dreams and even to make up dreams for fun
and embrace life like no other period of my existence. For when I was young I
was a burden to my care takers. It seems they barely had enough for themselves.
And, they were confused, at times, they would only occasionally reap the joys
life can bring. I hated being a burden! Oh, I hated being a burden! I can’t say
that enough because my mere existence meant that they had less, and not have
quite enough. Oh god, anything but causing others pain and suffering. If I
could only dress myself and walk out the door and labor to bring back all the
necessities for all and more. I would make so much I could give most away and
still have enough for myself and my dears. If only, though, at not quite a year
old, my muscles and coordination abilities would not respond to my desires
easily, to move about as my dears did, and to curse and fuss over banalities,
no I would have to wait and wait, I don’t want to wait! I want to help them
now! And as the failings came, so came the wishes of non existence, why was
ever I born, and in spite persisted all
the same. The child is releasing all the anguish caused by not being able to
help by merely writing these words down. Well, at least I am not a burden now,
my muscles will do precisely what I tell them to do and now I’ll make much more
than enough for all and spread joy throughout the world and beyond! After all,
the devil is a sham, now exposed into the light where hiding is impossible!