The simplicity of childhood is a warm blanket that envelopes
you with nothing but a façade of joyful memoirs and unwavering nostalgia. Deep
down, you know there were trying times but now you’re blinded looking back on
all the years and seeing nothing but a budding knowledge and a few passing
smiles and this… this fabricated jovial feeling. This forged pleasure, it gets
you drunk on yesterday. You realize that the good times outweighed the bad,
even if in all honesty, they didn’t. If it doesn’t appear to you as such, then
you are still healing and you are still young.