Fun from end to end

I was in the store the other day pushing the shopping cart around remembering the days when i was a lot smaller and ignorant child. I remember thinking, the better i am at driving this car around, the better i will be at driving. So i pushed that bad boy threw the store like i stole it and in the end, i had fun imagining me driving it. That was the extent of that experience, and it satisfied me as a child because it was fun. Was that not what the world revolved around? I thought that was the case.

Of course i know now that your ability to push a shopping cart around does not affect your driving skills. So now, at age 15, i am pushing my shopping cart around for what? Well getting groceries of course, and how fun is that? Not fun at all. This is another part of growing up that scares me dearly. Where will the fun go? Down the drain seems the obvious answer. As a child your life is worked around the ability to be entertained. You can see this at MC Donald's play pins, Barny TV shows, millions apon the thousands of toys that all have one simple goal. To let children have fun.

As i grew older, peoples responsibilities for me were become less and less of, lets get this kid happy, and more and more of, lets make sure he is well prepared for the future. And what will happen in the future, well more preparing of course. For what; College? All college is, is a program that lets other people be satisfied that you remembered all the crap that you should have learned a long time back. Insurance policies basically.

And after that? Jobs, Taxes, fun stuff let me tell you. If my childhood years are meant to be my learning stages, then why was i taught to have fun when the world tells me to settle down? I'm not sure I'm willing to give into this world adults. Not sure i want become responsible for more than my homework. Lord knows i already have trouble with that. Not sure i like what becoming an adult looks like and I'm not sure what i can do about it. Hopefully, figuring that out will be a bit of fun.

To the faithful reader,
Nicholas Zint