Sometime, I think that I stop being myself
I used to be talkative; I used to say out loud what I had in mind.
Then, somehow, along the way, it just stopped.
Is this the price of being mature?
Stop saying what you think? Stop believing what you think right?
Never know that the price of maturity is so freaking expensive -Losing freedom.
I hate to admit it. I hate to admit that as an adult, we live burdened.
Kids, teach us the adult, what is dream?
What is courage?
What is freedom?
But also teach us, what do you see in us?
When I was a kid, thought that I have to grow up quickly to get my freedom
Then I grew up too quickly, getting my responsibility too fast.
And I sold my time to freedom.
So now, as an adult I do have freedom, but I don’t have time.
But it's equally imperfect
Now I am just kids, with responsibility
I assume freedom, but I don’t have time.
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