Sara - Week 16 - The Feeling Still Deep Down Is Good
"You ain't a kid no more. We'll never be those kids again. It's not the same, ivory's illegal. Don't you remember?"
These lyrics from Ivy by Frank Ocean don't just linger with me—they settle deep inside my chest, a quiet but heavy truth as we step outside of junior year. "You ain't a kid no more." It's not a lyric—it's a reckoning. The free, endless days of youth that once seemed endless are slipping away. We're passing over a threshold, leaving behind the wildness and the wonder.
"We'll never be those kids again." That's the hardest part. The innocence we took for granted, the careless errors that previously counted for nothing, are now reminders. The past is distant and lost, like "ivory's illegal"—something so valuable and frail, it can't be held, only recalled.
It's not that time has changed, it's that we have. The people we used to be in those unvarnished, potential minutes are gone. And with that loss comes a sharp ache. But it's an ache that teaches us to cling to these memories differently. Maybe not as something to be mourned, but as the foundation of who we are becoming.
I recall the laughter-tinged nights and the hushed confidences, the chaos and calm all woven together like a fragile thread. Frank's question, "Don't you remember?" cuts through me—it is an enticement to hold onto those pieces even as the future pulls us forward. The rush of youth, the pain of growing up, the bittersweet weight of knowing we can never go back.
Standing here today, at the door to everything ahead, I think the truth of that line: it's not the same. The world we knew no longer exists, transformed into something new. But deep inside us, those moments, the moments of inebriated hope and adolescent rebellion, still beat like a heart beneath the surface.
So no, we're not children anymore. We'll never be those kids again. But maybe that's where the beauty is: in holding the past with us, not as something lost, but as something alive. Something that reminds us who we are—no matter how much the world changes.
And if you ever wonder if those moments still matter, just listen again. Don't you remember?
Hi Sara,
ReplyDeleteI like how you constructed your blog solely off of the Frank Ocean stanza in the beginning. Although I do not listen to Frank Ocean, I hope he releases an album that fans have been waiting for nearly a decade. As we grow out of childhood and transition into becoming adults, I agree with the fact in which we often wish we could turn back time and take advantage of or undo past opportunities. I side with your statement on childhood being the foundation of adulthood as I feel like many of my childhood memories and experiences will end up shaping who I am. Change is possible, yes, but I do not think many major changes will happen as adults. Great blog!
Hey Sara,
ReplyDeleteThis blog really hit a spot I did not anticipate. Right after APs, not being overly stressed, I have had time to feel that feeling you described realizing "you ain't a kid no more" after junior year. Ifeel it slipping through my fingers all the time (ABBA reference). I love how you used the lyrics from "Ivy," both the integration of a musical reference and the way it perfectly captures the nostalgia. Growing up is scary, but you're right, there's a comfort in knowing that these experiences of childhood, the silly mistakes and pure joy, are not gone. They become part of our identity (blog topic 1, full circle moment). Those blurry memories which will fade over time leave a lasting imprint.