once upon a junk drawer
I was loking for my birth certificate today in my junk drawer, and as always happens when I’m looking for something in there, I became distracted by everything else I came across. Old photos, letters and other little tidbits like kinder surprise toys (sooo fun!) But I came across my creative writing books from Primary School. My oh my what a journey back in time that was.
I wrote such morbid stories. Filled with a lot of death, lonliness. The characters tended to be outcasts or "weirdos" which is odd, because I had a fairly happy childhood, and never felt like a social outcast.
I found a story I must’ve only written shortly after my grandfather died. Quite blunt, and harsh for an 8 year old. Denouncing God and the evils of the world (as best as an 8 year old could.) I remember that day though, because this little prick was dancing around me with a cardboard cut out of a skeleton claiming that this is what my grandfather was now. He was probably right.
My grandfather story pales in comparison to the one I wrote the day I found out my best friend Adele died. How it wasn’t fair, and she’s just a kid, and she was going to be a writer, and how I wish aforementioned little prick died instead of her. (I really hated that kid..)
I made some rather bold claims as a child. That we should "blow up China and turn it into chocolate", that "its ok to steal, as long as it’s because you really have to or you’re going to be like Robin Hood" and that "people who can only write with one hand must be stupid!" (being ambidexterous, I always thought I was superior to everyone else.)
All through the back of my books, the word fuck is scribbled frantically. I had a horrible fascination with that word as a child, only because nobody would give me a straight answer about it’s meaning. The word was taboo and thus it became shrouded in mystery and intrigue to me.
Sex was also highly interesting to me as a child. I was so guarded from the "naughty scenes" in movies by my parents, yet was always present when my teenage cousins were discussing their sex lives. People usually always kissed in my stories, and i’d go into extreme detail when it came to the pre-kiss build up.
Odd ball little child I was.
Random Noter: Interesting…I’ve got a chest full of stuff that my parents and myself have put junk in…kinda like a time capsule that actually means something. Thing is, I’m too chicken-shit to find out what’s in store for me, should I open the damned thing.
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man, i never realized what a strange child i was until i looked back at some of my journals a while back. wiiierd. i think kids are usually interested in the strangest things though, things we don’t know about yet or no one will talk about.
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re: i want to blow up the sun alot. it burns into my eyesi was an odd child too. i think we all were, in some way or otherx
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oh god, i love going back. some people hate me for it. but i can’t help it. i love to reminicse. it fills me. xx,
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i dont think you were odd at all. maybe that’s just me being biased because i said similar things. i was convinced my paper airplanes could make it all the way to china, for the longest time. sometimes, i dont think i’ve out grown any of those random thoughts. iloveyou and i hope you’re well. ;m
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As a child, I had a strange fascination with the male genitalia… It got me into a lot of trouble, and sometimes still does. 🙂 Then again, I was a bit of an oddball child aswell.
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(shuffle your feet) =
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