September 13th 2006
Our childish side longs, wishes to be older but the older we get the more we fear loosing our inner child. Me? I’m constantly reminded of my size and thus of my age, but within those reminders, lay the child, I believe will always remain.
Today, the rain mocks me in the way it bounces off the muddy pavement trying to tempt my child to join… “alright rain, you asked for it… I surrender my cocktail umbrella to the wind, as if it kept me dry in the first place, chuck my falsely claiming knowledgeable books and… jump.
I quickly find myself in a washer of pure simplicity of which only one voice, one song could explain, I sing: “if all the rain drops were lemon drops and gum drops…
Bells interrupt me, symbolic reasoning for leaving the church, forcingly subsiding my wide-eyed, try everything once, child. “Ok”, I sigh in accordance to that damn cricket I managed to drown out just long enough for a much needed, twirl. I gather my things.
Now, frowning at the sight of my butts future home for the next two hours, I am reminded once again of my size, (the more money I throw away for this “knowledge”, the smaller my desk gets.) Still feeling childish in my mood, he chirps yet again; my thoughts must be wondering. A “disorder” is what they’d call my child and my wondering thoughts. There is a diagnosis for everything now. They diagnose my child as if it were a disease needing treatment; but, if my child is a disease, may there never be a cure, for I am a dreamer of the most luscious sorts and these thoughts are not to be dismissed for any lecture that bares no immediacy of my attention.
I wish to live my life deliberately, instead of following that cricket, listening to them…I wish, instead…to jump.
