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...be happy, don't cry.

Today was the first day of Spirit Week at mah school. It was funny hat/weird hair day. I wore an invisible hat.

Do any of you remember what life was like (perspective-wise/what the world looked like) when you were a little one?
I do. We're studying transcendentalism in English, and the first thing we did was read "Nature". The point that Emerson brought up about children and nature made me reminiscent of when I was much younger. I've lived in my grandparents house on and off since before I was born, and I can still remember what it looked like from a child's perspective. The pattern of the streets seemed more complicated and my house seemed much larger (well, duh). I remember being sick and resting on the couch, with my grandfather praying the Hail Mary with me so that I would get better. I remember running out to the front yard around Christmas-time, and singing carols to the stars because I was too shy to go caroling door-to-door. But the most wonderful memory I have is of one particular rainy day. It might not seem that special to others, because nothing special really happened. I don't even really remember what I did that day. I just remember the feeling of being in the rain. Just being there and watching the rain tumble down. The sky was wonderfully gray and the soft sound of the rain-fall was so soothing. It made me feel so human, yet one with nature.

I want it to rain again.

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
nyakototo
Oct. 28th, 2003 06:47 am (UTC)
man, this is eerie...
just recently, that memory came to me. I remember most vividly how I stood beneath this downpour when I was young, because I had wanted to so badly and despite how it feels in meditation of how much I have traveled, there are years when I was a teenage punk when it felt like I was just sleeping. Because... it feels like that. Invincible and unprotected and vulnerable and just loco. And when you are older, it hits you how fragile life is and makes you reflect constantly and re-trace and that memory of my downpour came to me and here you are, speaking of parallels! Wow... how it means to engrave a memory in stone with the help of another.
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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