Tiny Humans

As an adult. Ahem. 
(What? I have been an adult for 6 months now, I know everything about it.) 
I feel great sense of jealousy when I look at a child.

Smiling, waving away in joy with their spirits running free, laughing around with half teeth being in blissful oblivion of what is undoubtedly coming, grasping on blind faith in their balmy blues, making and destroying sand castles and being a tiny, tiny human.

Why shouldn’t I? Afterall, they have so very much, and are aware of so very little. 
They are tiny humans with their tiny bubble wrapped happiness.



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