The Misfortune of Growing Up

I recently came across one of my old diaries from when I was nine years old, and while reading my accounts of a vacation to Mexico, I concluded that children aren’t much different from adults. Although the diary dated back to almost a decade ago (it’s a miracle that I still have it), reading my [...]

I don’t know anything about war

Sometimes it feels as if my young age just tries it’s hardest to prevent me from understanding the world better I can read poetry and watch movies and nod my head in approval when they say that some lessons are only learned through cold and hard experience I can bask in the wisdom of those [...]