I roam the streets that I have known for all of my life.
The bushes that cover the mossy side of the road and the painting that is flaking off of the old walls.
I remember the times of being a child and seeing nothing but beauty and love in these old buildings and paths. To me, they defined an era.
They marked a time in my life, where fairy tales weren’t mere stories and responsibility was yet to be a concern.
The reality of a troubled mind was not one, that I was familiar with or one I was even worried about, for I did not know of the negativity in the world.
I do now.
I know that the world is not as beautiful as I thought, and that happy endings are a rarity.
And yet I find unending happiness and pleasure in these old ruins of a childhood, because they remind me of a time where my heart was pure and my head free.
Even if I live in a world of inequality, war and death, the journey down the street is an escape into freedom and happiness. Into purity, of a sort.
So occasionally I will take a stroll down memory lane.
I will be reminded of a time of happiness and liberty to think freely. I know it is not permanent, but regardless, it is nice to think, that there is still some beauty in the world.