I Am a Disappointment
I don’t even know where to start. Well, in that case, it’s best to begin at the beginning. As a kid, I wasn’t a terribly problematic child, but I caused some trouble. Like all kids back then, I loved playing until night. We’d mess around at the stadium, in the tree grove nearby, on some hills, or in a field. We often played games using just nature and our imagination since we didn’t have cell phones or computers. We simply enjoyed nature and interacting with it and each other. A small meadow seemed like a vast field, a little grove felt like a forest, an ordinary pond was a sea, and three-meter hills were mountains. The world seemed so big and incomprehensible, yet everything was so simple. We didn’t attach extra meaning to simple things, so we didn’t have to think about how to act in situations—we just lived by our feelings. When we were happy, we laughed; when we were sad, we cried; when we were scared, we hid or ran; when we were bored, we turned on our imagination. It was a w...