The Real Philosophers

Children with high imagination are usually seen as stupid, idiots, or just plain silly. Why would I say such a thing? Well I was, or am like that. Since I was a kid, my imagination and sense of wonder has always been a strong point for me. It may sound cliché or stupid, but growing up I was seen as stupid. I could remember the times when I was in class, and whilst having lessons I’d ask myself, “I wonder what it’s like to ride a dragon?” upon seeing an image of a dragon in the room, then the teacher would ask me a question and since I wasn’t giving a care as to what he was saying, I’d usually be clueless, then the rest of the class would laugh at me. Due to that constantly happening, I was sent to join the class of special people, because they thought I was one too, but as it turns out I am clever, just easily distracted.

Call me crazy, but I remember entering a gate that led me to a whole new world, one that was extraordinary. I called it “That Place” because of what I saw. I saw plants with faces, rainbows surrounding the skies, giant grasses that can be sat on, a field of ice, a pool of food, and many little creatures running around in joy. It was my Wonderland, now that I think about it. My best friend and I usually went there to play, we would skate around in the ice, play with the little creatures, run around and whatnot. It was amazing, until one day, when I came back everything was gone. I tried asking about it, but it seems like it never existed, only to myself and my best friend. A couple of years later, even she denied it, saying that it was all our imagination. Well was it?

But that didn’t stop me from continuing to nourish my imagination; I also remember having days that were dark, especially on bed times. I believed that there were monsters all around me when I slept, so I usually hid under the sheets, but because I couldn’t breath and it was too hot, I tied my sheets around on the side and made a small fort like area in my bed that enables me to freely move in. Well of course my blanket is still over me, so I believed that I was safe. I usually slept with stuff toys, believe that they were real and they were my guardians, ready to protect me. I also believed I had magic, I was a strong magic believer then, so I would cast a spell that would put up a force field around myself and below me, not placing one under my bed as I believed that I might let the monsters in. I did this every night for so long, until one day, around a couple of months ago, I just realized that I haven’t slept like that in ages. I’ve revealed my head for quite some time now, and almost all of my stuffed toys that I believed to be real were all kept away in my memory box, stored as just another part of my memory.

That was the time when I realized, I was growing up, and that my childlike traits were disappearing. I began to become to more focused, asking myself less and less questions that’s out of the blue, whether it’s possible to fly or not, it was also wearing away. I knew then that I was losing myself, the person I’ve begun to love, the young philosopher within me, the one who everyone thought was stupid, but was the one who was actually thinking all along, I lost me.

What I’m saying is, I want to become myself again. People disliked him, but I liked and enjoyed to be him, and I want to become him again. Children may look stupid to you, but to me I see them as young philosophers, seeing the world in a different viewpoint, being individuals unlike adults who seem to want things to be “normal”; the  boring choice of lifestyle.