Tuesday, 26 January 2010


Many years ago I had an argument with my Dad. I thought he was being very pessimistic and cynical, he thought I was being childish and naive. We finally agreed to disagree and we were both sure one day we would prove each other wrong. Today after what feels like a lifetime I have to very grudgingly admit that my Dad was right and I was wrong. It took me many years and many rought times to know that I was not right. Now I wonder if I would have lived life differently if I had believed in my Dad then. Maybe it was better I didn't. Certain knowledge comes with maturity, bitter experiences and an imperfect life. At the age of fifteen I think it's impossible to fathom that life will treat you any other way but with the highest regard. My total disregard of my Dad's opinion was a reflection of my innocence and optimism. A teenager who imagines that life is a bed of roses and the world is at their feet. Good times.

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