Musings of someone with nothing to do

This is an entry from my journal:

The beach is a place of discovery. It's a place where kids learn all about boundaries and the power of the earth. Children stand at the edge of the tide ankle deep clutching their parents hand, staring into the depths of what could be.
Sandcastles are an early artistic expression. It's almost like they're building their first home. They learn about foundations - that unless you build on something solid, what you have made gets washed away.
Parents are security, shelter, money, warmth, provision.
It's almost as though the beach is a place of tuition, exploration, freedom.

Where did I go wrong?

Are there opportunities that I'm going to wish I took? I don;t want to wish I'd travelled, played, written and loved more. I want to do as much of these things as I can while I'm young.

The beach is also a great place of recollection. Elderly couples who have seen wars, fought battles and experienced death walk along the prominade. While the young are windswept, cold and wet, the older are well prepared and always, always dry.

The sought after existence of a kite is over-rated. Everyone longs to fly wildly in the wind but as a kite you are forever at the mercy of your pilot rooted on the ground.
I remember flying my kite. Many a time i would let the diamond go to the full length of the wire and struggle to hold on. But I do remember thinking about setting the kite free.

Setting the kite free.

To fly it's own path.

To navigate the winds as it chose.

To fly as a bird.

Where did I go wrong? When did my innocence turn to ignorance instead of wisdom? When did a full piggy bank cease being important and the courtship of possessions begin to take it's place?

When did I stop having fun?