The Why's

I wish it were all so simpler, just as if it would be if I could rewind time to when I was 5 years old. Life was so easy then. Perhaps because I knew nothing about precious Euro, then the Maltese Lira. I never wanted for anything back then, not that I'm in want now, but life was so much easier because I had people to think about me. And I thought that being 5 years old was boring. I wanted to grow up so I could come and go as I please. And I wasn't exactly brought up in a strict household. Still I wanted the power to wear heels, to plaster make up on, to do whatever I liked. Which in turn is also strange seeing I did what I, no, we, liked most of the time. Because I don't even have my own history, and I am thankful for that. We ran around the kitchen table like maniacs and probably drove our mother nuts. Not my dad, he thought it was fun and would join us too. Dear dear daddy. And yes I still felt alone somewhat. I tried to combat that by doing plenty of talking-to-myself tactics. And when that didn't work, I turned to books. Yes at five years old. They were company. And still life seemed easier. I cannot say that I didn't have a care in the world. I did. I was too painfully aware of illness and handicaps and the injustice of it all used to swirl round in my five year old head incessantly. It still does, although the swirling has had a promotion and feels more like the Bermuda triangle during a tornado. Because I still do not understand why. I just wish life were simpler, easier to comprehend. Perhaps I should make peace with the swirling, the tornadoes and the Bermuda triangles. The trouble is, will they make peace with me? It always takes two or more. And that's yet another why.