nostalgia

I miss the days where every little thing made me over the moon with happiness, and when the whole world was unspoiled and magical, and when joy was simply based off of whether or not I could wear my tiara to school, or something ridiculous like that. As compelling as knowledge of the world is, I fear it is turning me into a somewhat jaded and judgmental human being. Pessimism suddenly overrides any ideas of fresh starts or newfound faith. I want to be positive--but when I pick up the newspaper or read a magazine, I can't help but feel a little bit nostalgic for a time when politics and suffering were not at all on my emotional radar. Maybe this cynicism is just an aspect of growing up?
Sometimes, I don't want to grow up.