From my childhood, I strongly recall the strange but pleasant smell of our sofa, the engine sound of my mom’s of Citroën AX, and the songs on the radio such as Steve Miller’s ‘The Joker’ and Henk Westbroek’s ‘Zelfs je naam is mooi’. And when I go back to that time, the worries of today are numbed — for a while at least.

Nostalgia is a dangerous drug, especially when it comes from discontent from the present. Is this what morphine is like? To feel numb can be such a convenient getaway.

Yet the thing I miss most about being young is having no sense of time. To play LEGO, to assemble a model airplane, or watch the eight o’clock evening news next to my mom. The voices of the anchors which carried importance even though they spoke about faraway wars in Kosovo or Afghanistan. I wondered what they would talk about if one day nothing happened, but it turned out, every day produced new news.

I enjoyed those things for what they were. There was no bigger meaning to it, no significance; just enjoyment without the pressure of time.

Now, when I read a book it’s about what it can teach me. Even fiction has a purpose; please teach me more empathy! To talk a walk is to think about work-related stuff, and to relax isn’t for its own sake; it’s to recharge for work. Every hour of adult life carries importance. And the things that brought joy are considered a waste of time. Is, unlike nostalgia, are what I miss most about my childhood.