I am so tired of dignity. Why do we so desperately scramble for this tediously convoluted idea of molding ourselves to other's expectations, even people we care nothing for? Not that dignity is all bad, or bad at all, only it can become such a subjective arbiter of well being that is also so very universally held. Maybe dignity is the wrong word even, but I am going to stick with that word and choose to believe that it can be understood for the concept I have in my head.

I say this probably because I feel rather nostalgic for childhood. It was much easier to become excited about events and things, unfettered as children are by the "uncoolness" factor of such excitement. I miss climbing the dirt mounds of our developing, but not yet developed, neighborhood, unconcerned with my undignified dusty dirt stains. I used to revel in wearing certain things, shockingly bummish as many of those things were, comfortable in my hand-me-down stretch pants and baggy t-shirts. Now I wear muted colors, not exactly fashionable still, but not unfashionable anyways. I succumb to expectations on a regular basis where just a few years (or so) ago I would not even realize the expectations. I miss the ignorance of childhood in many ways and the freedom that that ignorance held. Or if nothing else, I miss the kinds of expectations of childhood, expectations to play and to be rather undignified.