We all had this innocence,shaped into the form of a little kid. Maybe the little kid died or in other words, the child grew up. We no longer get happy because of things that once made us so, so we start looking for other ways to be. Ways we never thought we would take. Stuff we never intended to experience. Love, hatred, and stranded between them is a hole of ambivalence. Hesitance, like a quagmire of sticky stands where we get stuck in from time to time, struggling to feel something when we are supposed to do. The simplicity evolved into this higher monster, aka complexity. Tied shoelaces we can't untie. Mysteries we can't unravel. Here comes the hardest part of it all: passing from childhood to adulthood - from a suburban house into a wooden forest, where we have to deal with ruthless animals and tingling vines from trees. Yet, we overlooked the forest's beauty, its colors and scenes, because every beauty is seen by a kid's eye who died before. We grew up, my dear.