Nobody likes us when we’re thirty-three
To the eyes of a child, most adults seem miserable, bitter, and stressed. When did the world stop being full of games, rainbows, and butterflies? We promised ourselves that we would never become that kind of adult.
Nonetheless, here we are, in our thirties and with a frown on our faces. Everything irritates us, and sometimes it takes too much to make us happy. Maybe we shouldn’t take ourselves so seriously. What would our 8-year-old selves think about this?
Editorial content
Pages: Page 1, Page 2, Page 3, Page 4, Page 5, Page 6, Page 7, Page 8, Page 9, Page 10, Page 11, Page 12, Page 13, Page 14, Page 15, Page 16, Page 17, Page 18, Page 19, Page 20, Page 21, Page 22, Page 23, Page 24, Page 25, Page 26, Page 27, Page 28, Page 29, Page 30, Page 31, Page 32, Page 33, Page 34, Page 35, Page 36, Page 37, Page 38, Page 39, Page 40, Page 41, Page 42, Page 43, Page 44, Page 45
