I like to believe that someday when we are older, we have wonderful memories to look back on. That the tall tales we will tell would hold happier emotions than melancholic ones.
The best way we record our steps, thoughts, dreams, and aspirations is through the things we do and places we have been to. That way, you can walk down the street and reminisce that there was a corner shop that sold the most revolutionary ice cream; better than the sickly syrup claimed to be ice cream these days.
You can see the waves lapping up the beach and recall other hot days with still winds where your skin felt like it was burning off, and cooling down at the same time in the salt air.
You can see a child smile and remember how long holidays were spent riding bicycles and skinning knees.
You can recall many hours merged into one lump where you thought the song of the day was the best thing since jollof rice; and how you swore you would hear no better album only to break that promise with the next album.
You can have a record of your youth.
The passing of time like change is constant. And in a world where each day seems to look bleaker than the last, it is easy to grow up fast, to shoulder so much responsibility you feel weighed down by it. But we must remember that every moment is the first for us, and we are all traveling through time differently, but together.
So, while we grow older by the minute, let’s create tales we bore our future generation with because they can’t relate to them. Let’s bond with our buddies we travel through time with because really ‘these young ones cannot understand what it was like during COVID’.
Travel if you can, when you can. Laugh when you find the littlest things funny. Dance in the rain. Spend time with your loved ones. Stay up all night, and sleep all day. Eat whatever you crave. Make wishes on falling stars. Live boldly, or quietly if you want. Be thankful for every moment.
Record your youth in words and songs and declarations and silences. Record it. It is yours.