The little girl and I

JO&LE

I know. Beautiful.

She seems to be at so much peace. Such calm.
While it all seems so, her brain is exploding with questions and her eyes are filled with wonder.
And mind you, those are the questions that actually matter.
“Where does the sun hide when it goes to bed at night?
Where does the moon stay all day long?
Why is pink, pink and orange, orange?
Why do some men have beard and some have a smooth face?”

She mostly wants more – be it the carrot cake on her plate or the stories around the world.
She says things as she feels it. She cries when she feels like. She sleeps when she needs to.

Here I am. Grown up.
So grown up that I am currently reading “The Subtle Art of not giving a Fuck”.

That’s the fine line I guess.

She gives a fuck about everything.

I want to. But I am so tired and exhausted and now busy trying to master such arts.

Oh hey. And if any of you think it is any easy for her – caught you.
With all the questions in her head, she goes mad. Only because most of them go unanswered.

Then one day she begins to feel that maybe these questions don’t matter.
And from then she’s a grown up.

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