Growing Up

There is something about growing up that makes me want to hide under my covers. As if i was 5, trying to hide from the monsters in my closet. Just as my closet was unknown territory to me, so is the real world. I sound like a fruit loop, but i really don't want to grow up. Growing up, means that I get to see and witness more of the hate in the world. The hate, i had no clue existed when i was 5. Well, maybe besides the occasional mean 1st graders on the playground. My little speech impediment self could kick their butts. Can't you just picture that? A little girl in a cute little dress, saying "ihs fghoona kithcks yoths butsts" (im gonna kick your butt), and then run away crying? Actually, i got into fights with all the neighborhood boys. I kicked most of there butts too, i am proud of myself. I knew how to fight, and none of that pulling hair, bitch slapping nonsense. I'm talking, i was fluent in arm choke, knuckle sandwiches and spitting in the face. I could almost pee standing up.. except it got a little messy.

I am sitting here trying to tell you that I never knew hate existed when i was a little girl, but then i go on to say i beat up neighborhood boys. BUT you get the point, right.. right? Or do i have to kick your butt to show you how much i like peace?