Little eight years old me

How can one know when one is clueless. Like an idiot taking steps round and round. Never minding the circle. Feeling straight. Smooth as an eggshell. Feet takes wrong steps. Falls. Sitting down questioning the miss step. Feeling gloomy. Dizzy. Blurred. Tears. Another temptation to stand-up. Weak. Remaining down. Cry. One tear. Two tears. Thousand tears. Sobs. Shaking the head. Surrendering to the pain. Knees bleeding. Blood. Enjoying the fall. Because you know that this fall has thought you something. You know what later in years when you connect the dots.