Today was odd. I think everyone in the world has felt overlooked before. Perhaps you've done something and no one seemed to notice or care. A fantastic story or beautiful picture, but no one paid it any mind. Thats when the seperation between those you succeed and those who don't occurs. Those who succeed are the ones who stop trying to impress other people and instead do the most fantastic things for themselves and those who they love. They expect nothing in return, but in truth deserve so much. Eventually, with luck and perhaps the rare moment when mankind isn't filled with morons, their talents get the appreciation they've earned. Those who don't succeed are the ones who continue to burn themselves out in an attempt to impress other people. They want recognition and praise, and before long they've forgotten the original joy in loving what they do.

I may not succeed in life with the few talents I have, but I still use them because I enjoy them. I enjoy writing and painting. Its fun to me. For me. I don't think I've reached the stage where I am completely passed caring what other people think, but I do think I've learned not to expect too much. Whether thats a good or bad thing is a topic I still debate with myself.

None the less, when I was in the cafetaria line and a girl a few years younger than me comes up and compliments me on the work I had done in art class, I was thrilled. And slightly surprised. I didn't know the girl, but still she had obviously asked someone who I was. It was a good feeling to know that someone seemed to like what I'd done, but I think her age shocked me a bit. See, when I said a few years younger than me, I meant she was probably only 10 or so. A part of me still thinks of the age 10 as a magic age. And not good magic. Thats the age when the simple delights of childhood seem to wear off. Thats the age when we start wanting, and expecting, more. I did it and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't. That specfic painting she complimented was an abstract piece and I felt mine ended up a bit more fairytale-ish than some of the others. Thats one of the reasons the teacher and some of the other students didn't seem to like it. They called it childish. So a part of me is beyond thrilled that a person enjoyed my work. Another, bigger, part of me is estatic that some one who has reached the changing age of 10 still enjoys the simplest childish things.

I wonder if any of you remember the age you were when the sun seemed to have less of a mystery about it? When the moon and the stars went from being magical to being explained? When the trees stopped catching your attention anymore? The age when you "grew up". I can't count the many romance novels or love letters or movies that included someone saying how they wished they could stop time and keep their love forever. Far too many to count. But I think thats something I want to happen. I want time to stop moving and the moon to hang in the sky for ages onward. I want the repetiveness of each day to stop and the horrific things we see to freeze and be whispered away. But not so some love can last forever, but rather that the terrible act of growing up and what that act brings, stops. To let the whole world remain young and carefree. For when you are young there is no language barrier, color difference, or complex thoughts to rule your days. There is only you and the wind on your face and in your hair. There is only you and all the world. Simple, thats what it'd be.

There must be some people out there who think they are different than their friends. That they don't seem to be on the same wavelength as their peers. I think that difference can be explained away easily. You, and me I suppose, kept some part of our soul from aging and stopped the process of growing up, if only for a corner of our mind. So while these complex thoughts that rule the days of 'grown-ups' do come to us, along for the ride is the simple view point of childhood. They merge and dissolve together until to us there is no difference. We think grown-up thoughts and  our opinions of them are that of children. I enjoy it. Don't you? Don't you enjoy the way the simplest things can capture your attention and free your imagination? Don't you love the look on other people's faces when you say something they haven't thought for years?

And all of this came from the simplest thought that today was odd. A simple, childlike thought that was quickly broken down into grown-up ideas.