Something exists within children that seems numinous to say the least--some level of innocence, obviously. That observation is beyond cliche, but what seems to remain unobserved pertaining to this ethereal innocence is the imagination and wonderment concerning the world around them. A level of some near divine curiosity towards their surroundings. All of us are aware of this underlying, ever-present innocence, at least subconsciously; this awareness becomes evident through most sane adults' repulsion and revulsion towards acts of violence towards children. This curiosity, this wonderment, this joy concerning their (children) environment seems so elusive to adults that attempts for new-found youth have been recorded since at the very least, the legendary fountain of youth. Those who have already matured into adulthood crave this youth again-the ubiquitous optimism. This craving is evident through our entire culture with just about anything labeled "anti-aging" sells off of the shelves faster than it can be put up. We crave this optimism so dearly that somewhere deep in the subconscious the thought might exist of, "If I can change look younger, then maybe, I'll feel younger." What this craving really represents is the steadfast wish for the loss of a bitter cynicism. Hopefully, one could find this optimism again, without the Freudian undertones of trying to look younger coinciding, but maybe that is just the shred of idealism slowly slipping away from me into my ever-declining state into adulthood.
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