Remember the time when you can stare at the sky for hours and hours and not get bored; only to get fascinated by the many shapes the clouds can form?
Also, the time when you spend the night reading a wondrous book filled with many amazing adventures; leading you to ponder what kind of adventure awaits you in the future?
Perhaps you could be the next Tintin, solving mysteries with your fateful assistant, Snowy. Or you could be Charlie, the lucky boy who got to visit the enchanting chocolate factory.
Oh! And let's not forget Alice. The only girl in the whole universe who visited Wonderland and had a tea party with the eccentric Mad Hatter.
All these thoughts don't matter now.
Because I can't even remember them clearly anymore.
And that's when I realised, I have not matured at all.
I simply aged along with years.