dumb kid
i scraped my right knee today. realized when was the last time same thing happened to me. probably a very long time, so long that i cannot remember. the difference is that, the tiny scratches didn’t hurt that much anymore. feels more like it’s just there. the difference is that, i don’t cry from being tripped, slid, and slammed on a concrete or a rocky earth. this is the difference. time is the difference. getting big and growing, experiencing an odd thing that was supposed to happen most likely to young boys and girls who love to run around but end up hurting themselves, is the difference. how can we feel less from a pain but so much from memories that it hurts more than the wound? maybe my being emotional today dragged the memories of the scratch on the knee, and it doesn’t matter because at some points while we continue growing up... we go back to being just dumb kids all over again.
![Savage Whispers 1 - Mea [ENG]](https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/vertical_storycovers/ipad_ac1c3ac2d24d2eb3a53269595f0719f1.jpg)
