"The sky glows, I see it shining with my eyes closed, I hear your warnings, but we both know, I'm gonna look at it again..."
Did you ever stare at the sun? It hurts at first, so bright. Then after a little while there's that black spot that shows up if you look exactly, directly at the sun, you can only see blackness.
I don't suggest trying it. My eyesight is horrible and I'm sure little experiments like these didn't help much.
The round-about point I'm trying to make is this kind of reminds me of life. When you're a kid it's like the amazing parts of life will never end.
I remember I loved catching fireflies and mom and I would do that almost every summer night. Sometimes there were no fireflies so mom would run around, pretending to be a firefly, until I tackled her. It's corny, I know, but it was so goofy and fun.
I also remember 'The Monster At The End Of This Book.' The one redeeming memory that I have for my dad. He read me that book over and over in an annoying Grover voice that I loved. Over and over and over and over... The monster was always Grover and he's not scary. That was the point, I guess. Kind of corny, but once again, it was great when I was a kid.
I took little things like that for granted when I was a kid. I didn't realize that someday they would be just a memory. I guess I could still tackle mom, but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't be happy about it. And I have no idea where that book is, plus the Grover voice would probably just annoy me now.
It's like when I was little I was looking straight at life, all the beauty. It was almost blinding. Then, slowly, there was a black spot, so I could look at life directly and not see it. Now, once in a while, I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye or I watch a movie (like American Beauty or Rent) that reminds me. But usually all I see is blackness.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment