I love being a parent and I’m generally happy with my personal and professional life. But sometimes I look at DD, who is 5, and see the joy, wonder and excitement she has for the simplest of things, and feel sad that one day, like most of the rest of us, she’s going to lose that lust for life, and be co-opted into an empty sham of wage slavery, bills, working, sleeping, chasing after things we think we need but that are ultimately totally pointless. Then waking up aged 60 and thinking shit, I never actually lived did I?
Is it just me?
Or maybe I’m just projecting.