I remember when I was small, there was a phenomenal feeling of anticipation while building and preparing for something. The execution didn’t necessarily matter – it was more about the process, about “eventually getting there”. The very existence of that process makes me wonder – that wondering in itself being pleasant.
Choices, reasons, strange feeling of being in a box… concentrating on disappointments rather than recognizing pleasant surprises. It is harder for rivers to change a chosen course than to flow down a known route through twigs and gravel.
The winds are changing. Ideas are changing… an emptiness remains, itself being belittled by the realization of its insignificance. Makes me smile.
Nikita's Spot 
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i remember when i was small… wait, i am small
little