Perhaps is not just a legend the one who lived with king Arthur and the knights of the round table, the one who walked among kings, advised the wise and taught the fools. Oh, but what a beautiful world ours would be if that was true. I'm not sure of when the magic was lost in this here world I find myself struggling on. When did the sweet ignorance of a childish mind allow itself to be corrupted by the ideas and fears of a matured world?

I remember the days when I used to read stories about Merlin and King Arthur, stories that talked about orcs and dragons, princesses and odysseys. I used to believe with every fiber in my body that every word on those books was true, my imagination would effortlessly run for days non-stop while I was trying to figure out my own story. My granddad, at times, probably regretted showing me his workshop as every time I visited I had a new idea I needed his help with, swords, spears, shields, and amulets were carved from logs and pieces of wood. I was by his side every time, constantly being pushed away because my nose would keep on getting closer and closer to the saw, as I would impatiently stare at the elegance with which every wooden piece was nibbled into what I thought were some of the most beautiful works of art I was ever going to see and own.

The sweet innocence of a young and humble mind, something that seems to be unfitted for a world of nine to five days. Little by little I'm feeling my own perspicacity being stripped away, as I continually feel the need to numb down my own eagerness for discovery. I Just don't have the time to play around anymore, I have responsibilities and things to take care of. The one thing that bothers me the most about the changes I'm still going through is this notion of a status I supposedly acquired or apparently need to possess. This crippling fear that takes over my body and mind every time I find myself alone in a room full of cliques of different people and their turning heads as I slowly make my way across the room, or even worst, my own attitude of judgment towards the loner whenever the roles are reversed.

I feel like the older I get, the stronger the necessity for stability is, I don't feel like making new friends or talking to new people. I'm scared of getting rejected, of being taken by a fool, or even making a fool out of myself. I feel at ease on my routine, I feel at peace whenever I'm in known ground. Little by little I'm losing my sense of adventure and slowly slipping into a cradle of complacency and comfort. As if because I found something to do with myself or something to be praised for, I get to live my entire life doing the same thing, in the same place with the same people. I think the younger me would be bored out of his mind after just a couple days of living like that.

I guess nobody gets to live like a lost boy for the rest of their lives, oh, but what a beautiful world ours would be if that was to be possible. Can you imagine? I miss living for the moment, I miss not being scared of making a fool out of myself, I miss expecting the best out of people, I miss not being scared of judgment, I miss thinking that a wooden sword was all I needed to take on the world, I miss having bloody knees and dirty hands when I'm called in for lunch.

I want to feel amazed once again, without being stupidly scared of confessing that I don't know something. I miss having none of the answers, because I will never be as eager to learn as I was back then, back in the days when I thought I would find Merlin or some other guide, one who had all the answers.