Monday, June 13, 2011

Jesse, just look at them grass.

Last night I tried desperately to remember what it was like to be a five year old, and the more I thought about it the more I realized that part of me is gone entirely.  I could try to find some semblance of my childhood persona, but for the most part he's gone.  I tried to retrace my steps and find some familiar landmark that I could latch onto, but there was some gray lump in my life (presumably in high school) when all the days started to fold together into some kind of road block.  I can still appreciate childlike joy, I can play in the mud and eat cookie dough when my mum's back is turned, but I can no longer empathize with my past self, and it's a little sad.  I haven't found this to be a sobering fact at all, however, and rather have used this disconnection as motivation to be twice as adventurous and innocent in the quest for discovery and wisdom. (paradox alert) 

When I was five I cried when I ate all the candy so no one else could have some, I loved to climb trees and eat dirt, I essentially dug my fingers into every aspect of my life that I could touch, and I plan to retain some of those childhood aspects of my identity into adult life, or I'll die trying.  here's my favorite music video.


6 comments:

  1. Chris, I have been trying to find a blog that is interesting and meaningful, without being completely nauseating and cliche. Congratulations, my friend. This is great.

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  3. My bro, I know exactly how you feel. You have no idea how many times I've sat down when it felt like there was no escape from the world, and thought about how much I wish I could go back to the simple innocence of childhood...but I can't. But this song captures it like nothing else I've ever come across. Thanks so much bro.

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  4. You have a very well documented childhood, and photos of you are the sweetest and the naughtiest (paradox alert) I have seen, except for maybe Rob.

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  5. This is the perfect description of whatever this feeling is. And though I probably won't see you again knowing that we don't really have anything in common anymore (other than the fact that we went to high school together), I have one last request:
    Post that silly poem about that brick that you wrote sophomore year in Ms. Rock's class. Seriously. I loved that thing. Ha ha.

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  6. hemma, we only have all the same friends. I'm sure we have a splendid future ahead of us. Maybe, if you wish for it long enough, we'll even kiss. Ms. Rock has the only existing copy of that thing. you could kill her and steal it. otherwise I don't think she'll ever let go of it. It's in a laser-guarded glass case in her house, I've heard.

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