So Much a Child

I feel old. I feel as if I have lived so much. Yet, I am still so much a child. I find joy in so many little things. A bouncy ball, seeing my breath in the cold air, carving pumpkins, a flashlight that projects a ghost, seeing things being destroyed, jell-o, fire!, christmas time (it’s so cozy and loving!), tobogganing, chocolate milk, making funny sounds to annoy my sister, my telescope (stars are awesome!), being around family, cartoons, dreaming of grand adventures…

When I was a kid, I imagined me growing up as someone between Indiana Jones and James Bond. Dreams seem to fade so rapidly in high school, where I got that feeling of being told what I can’t do more than what I can. In my last few months of high school, before I had to drop most of my courses and finish them through correspondence, I had two very good teachers who began to open my mind again. They seemed to enjoy what they did and when a teacher loves teaching it’s so much easier for a student to love learning. I will always remember them.

I may not end up stopping Nazis from unleashing the Ark of the Covenant on the world, or be seducing Miss Moneypenny, but I have confidence that I am stubborn enough to follow my dreams.

I think that I’d be a good writer. This entry is not reflective of my proper writing style, so no, you are not allowed to judge me. Hehe. I’d love to travel the world and write, like Ernest Hemingway, Joseph Conrad and Antoine de Saint Exupery, because through writing is the window to emotion, to relation, to dreams. The written word is life.

EDIT: A very good friend inspired this post. She knows who she is. <3