(no subject)
...they loved each other. They wanted a child. I was begot in the month of October on the 17th day. As life begins it also starts to end. I started to breath in this new world. As a small infant memories of my after birth are very vague. I had nothing to give, but love to receive. Even now the memories are like a dream that I’m trying to remember. Early memories are of the first house I lived in, the white house as I’d call it. I had simple enjoyments back then. Like catching caterpillars and smelling the next door neighbors tulips. They were so beautiful. Always near the edge of the sidewalk. Yellow and Red. Even as a kid i might have destroyed such beauty back then trying to obtain it as my own. I was so easily amused. The house was ghetto, but back then it didn't matter. We weren't a poor family, just a family living in a rough society. We always made ends meet, but my father had a different addiction. Though i was too young to know. It did keep us down for awhile. It was the path he choose. I never want to pass judgment on my father. My mother the glue that holds the family together. Thank you for all you have done, I’m sorry if i complained. Just rolling around in the grass made me feel so happy when i was so young. Ignorance is bliss and I was pure youth.
Father always liked carrying me around, I was his pride. I was mother's joy. My days consisted of sitting in the high chair while I watched mother clean the house or do some other new motherly activity. House guest bantering murmurs at my face. Back then I couldn't talk I could only listen laugh and smile. Even if I did posses some understanding it wouldn't matter because adults never speak to you in a comprehendible language. Adults would see me and melt and start going "Whos da wittle baby - awww goochi goochi goo, ah ah awwww, na na- na na boo". Talking for the first time is a replication of what we hear the most, of course if i kept getting that kind of treatment my vocabulary would never take off. The first word is usually the last word you hear in a sentence slowly being said to you. Like "come on say DA-DE".
As I grew older, my days on the high chair grew shorter. I would be served up to my new confinement. They called it "The Play Pen". A small childs prison if you actually think about it. It wouldn't be long till I figured out how to make a daring escape. If I pushed on the wall hard enough, threw myself at it. The whole thing would tip over and I’d be free at the expense of almost getting hurt. Even then I wouldn't get far. My path was protruded by a second set of bars, these were gates that covered the doorways just tall enough not to let me by. They call these Baby Gates. Their main purpose to serve is to make sure small infants like I at the time could not just wander into dangerous sections of the house. Such as the Kitchen and Pantries, oh yeah and the ever popular path to the basement. Baby Gates wouldn't be something I would be able to conquer until I grew a little height. I just needed a little more time to work on that.
I'd sometimes sit there and try to watch TV. Back then it was the beginning of MTV. Video stared to kill the radio star. I'd watch TV not knowing what was going on. Mass amounts of color on the screen. Smurfs, School House Rock, so amusing my little mind was on fire with delight. Little did i know that Atari would change how I watched TV, but that would come later. Voltron, Thunder Cats, those were my favorite shows. I just *had* to have a Thunder Cats action figure. "I just gotta" my youth mentality says to myself. I remember the day, my mother asks me to come in her room while she is laying down. She tells me to open her sock drawer and look inside. I walked over to it pulled it open and reached inside. I can see blue packaging peek out from under the socks. As i dig deeper I ‘am shocked and amazed to see a Thunder Cats - Liono action figure sitting at the bottom. I pulled it out and declared that she was the bestest mom.
Father always gave me piggy back rides, Always tossing me in the air. Now that I’m older it is a sad thing to miss. Laying down at night I’d just stare at the ceiling Darkness made me feel fear. All around me, the spots I could not see I feared the most. When I laid down at night I could swear that i seen the eyes of dolls follow me where ever I go. They often say the mind of a child is so pure that they can see things adults can. The Darkness always haunted me, the attic was ever so creepy. Fear was like another language I couldn't understand. Shock just incases my body.
When I look back I notice how much time I spent with my sister. We always had to share a room. Back then rooms weren't so fun. More like a place of confinement. When you are bad you go to your room.
Then came the cat...
Mr. Gibbs was his name. Though now that I think about it, I ‘am not exactly sure what he was named after, and why. An orange big fluffy Persian cat. Wow, my first pet. I'd be quick to learn that cats never really like you from the start. Now I had a new hobby. Chase the cat around the house. I remember chasing it all around, dashing under the table, hiding under the couch. It once ran into the little room, the room with stairs that lead to the attic. I'd reach for the cat to get it out of its hiding spot, but yet i kept looking back at the stairs. I'd wonder. One night, a cousin of mine. Stops by the house with a bike. Though i think it was stolen, he gave it to my parents. My first bike. Red and black it was. All I’d do is ride that bike around the kitchen. Around and around the kitchen table. Just me and the bike.....and training wheels. During the day my Mother would sit on the porch as I’d ride my bike back and forth on the side walk in front of her. Trying to impress her by showing how fast I could go. Restrictions were strict I couldn't go past the third house. Every once and awhile I’d sneak up to that corner just to see what’s on the other side. Nothing could stop me! ...except grass and a nasty skid mark on the face from falling off. I was so scared. I thought my face would be like that forever. Blood and dirt slashed across side of my face, the result of it sliding across the concert side walk. I feared the bike now. I had no real injuries like that before, ever. As time goes so does injuries. I would once again conquer that bike.
The scenery would change in a short while. It was time to move. Soon we would move to a house on South Michigan street. It was quite a big house. Made of wood and painted yellow. Big indeed it was. I shared a room up stairs with my sister. The path to our room was tricky. You see i had never really dealt with stairs before. And these stairs were short and narrow. I'd look up and it looked like it'd take forever just to climb up them. Because that’s what I did for the first month or so, just climbs up them. Hands then knees. On the way down I’d always hug the wall for that "Just in case". When I found out our room would be all the way upstairs I was shocked. I'd never been so far away from my parents before. Their room always used to be a only just a few feet away. Now what am I supposed to do when the boogie man comes at night? Walk out the room down dark dark stairs and just leave my sister behind? A resolution had to be found. That’s when mother told me that they invented a device on the market which they called the "Night Light" which would produce a soft glow that kept the closet person in the next room away. I'd always stare at the door to my room, like I was ready for somebody/something to just walk through at any time, but past the door I only saw darkness. To shut the door also felt like i had no escape. And this is how the new house was.
We had a bunk beds in our room. I was the older so I had to sleep on the top bunk. Being the small child I was I always had the fear of just falling off the bed in the middle of the night. What a way to go to sleep too, fearing that you will end up on the floor. One night something did happen, I had awoken from a clatter. A shady figure fluttered freely in the room. As it neared the window illuminated by the moonlight it could clearly be seen that it was a bat. "Mom!" me and my sisters first instinct. She ran up the stairs and had seen it was a bat after turning on the lights. Now basically a bat is a rat with wings. So a women's natural reaction is to panic. Her panicking caused the panic in us to stir the kettle. In comes father with a net he uses to catch fish out of the water. After many attempts the beast was detained. We never figured out how a bat was able to enter the house. Maybe through an air vent on the top of the house, maybe. The next room over across from ours is what we called the play room. The rooms decor consisted of my sister's and I toys scattered all over the place like we were playing with hurricanes. Little People play sets and toy cars, one in each corner. I had the ability to create little worlds in that room. I controlled the fires and I controlled the firemen. If I wanted He-Man to be the mayor of Little People town, by golly he would be. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is why we have She-Ra. Girl toys always threw me off balance, she'd always be there when I was making fake food on the fake oven. I'd whip her across the room by her plastic stranded hair.
By day I was a Three Wheeler Bandit. It was black with 3 red wheels. Riding a three wheeler is so fun. The body of it is so relaxing, laid back. Just move your feet at the end a little and you have energy for your stead, transportation. It being a new house I had to explore. Everyday a new adventure would play out in the back yard. It would be hosted in my head, and if you were around me you would be a
I was ready for my day I had been prepping myself for this for awhile now. The day I ride without training wheels. My father standing behind me and holding me on the seat as I try my best to hold this bike upright without falling over. Our driveway was a long one, very. My father waited for my command, as I was bracing myself for an important step in my life. Riding a bike without training wheels. A key element to the up and coming stages of my misspent youth. Like a camera that pans out of my eyes and into the sky to hang above me. I can see myself at that very moment. My heart beat tempo raised to a high pitch and I said "I'm ready". He let me go. I had attempted this before, but every time I’d freeze for a second and in that second I’d just fall over on the bike. This time i didn't. This was the time that it would be different. Fathers words stuck with me. Move your feet pedal! he shouted to me as I rolled away down the driveway. I began to move my feet up and down as I came back from a collective frenzy. I found the rythmatic motion that I needed. I'm going! I'm going! I'm doing it! I was so happy I forgot how to stop. The look in my face turned to quick shock as I realized I was now almost to the road from my drive way. "I gotta think fast" First reaction I take is veering my handle bars to the right. This made me crash right into the side of the house. Skidded across the side house with my body THEN eventually keeling over and have the bike land on me pinning me to the ground.
Father always liked carrying me around, I was his pride. I was mother's joy. My days consisted of sitting in the high chair while I watched mother clean the house or do some other new motherly activity. House guest bantering murmurs at my face. Back then I couldn't talk I could only listen laugh and smile. Even if I did posses some understanding it wouldn't matter because adults never speak to you in a comprehendible language. Adults would see me and melt and start going "Whos da wittle baby - awww goochi goochi goo, ah ah awwww, na na- na na boo". Talking for the first time is a replication of what we hear the most, of course if i kept getting that kind of treatment my vocabulary would never take off. The first word is usually the last word you hear in a sentence slowly being said to you. Like "come on say DA-DE".
As I grew older, my days on the high chair grew shorter. I would be served up to my new confinement. They called it "The Play Pen". A small childs prison if you actually think about it. It wouldn't be long till I figured out how to make a daring escape. If I pushed on the wall hard enough, threw myself at it. The whole thing would tip over and I’d be free at the expense of almost getting hurt. Even then I wouldn't get far. My path was protruded by a second set of bars, these were gates that covered the doorways just tall enough not to let me by. They call these Baby Gates. Their main purpose to serve is to make sure small infants like I at the time could not just wander into dangerous sections of the house. Such as the Kitchen and Pantries, oh yeah and the ever popular path to the basement. Baby Gates wouldn't be something I would be able to conquer until I grew a little height. I just needed a little more time to work on that.
I'd sometimes sit there and try to watch TV. Back then it was the beginning of MTV. Video stared to kill the radio star. I'd watch TV not knowing what was going on. Mass amounts of color on the screen. Smurfs, School House Rock, so amusing my little mind was on fire with delight. Little did i know that Atari would change how I watched TV, but that would come later. Voltron, Thunder Cats, those were my favorite shows. I just *had* to have a Thunder Cats action figure. "I just gotta" my youth mentality says to myself. I remember the day, my mother asks me to come in her room while she is laying down. She tells me to open her sock drawer and look inside. I walked over to it pulled it open and reached inside. I can see blue packaging peek out from under the socks. As i dig deeper I ‘am shocked and amazed to see a Thunder Cats - Liono action figure sitting at the bottom. I pulled it out and declared that she was the bestest mom.
Father always gave me piggy back rides, Always tossing me in the air. Now that I’m older it is a sad thing to miss. Laying down at night I’d just stare at the ceiling Darkness made me feel fear. All around me, the spots I could not see I feared the most. When I laid down at night I could swear that i seen the eyes of dolls follow me where ever I go. They often say the mind of a child is so pure that they can see things adults can. The Darkness always haunted me, the attic was ever so creepy. Fear was like another language I couldn't understand. Shock just incases my body.
When I look back I notice how much time I spent with my sister. We always had to share a room. Back then rooms weren't so fun. More like a place of confinement. When you are bad you go to your room.
Then came the cat...
Mr. Gibbs was his name. Though now that I think about it, I ‘am not exactly sure what he was named after, and why. An orange big fluffy Persian cat. Wow, my first pet. I'd be quick to learn that cats never really like you from the start. Now I had a new hobby. Chase the cat around the house. I remember chasing it all around, dashing under the table, hiding under the couch. It once ran into the little room, the room with stairs that lead to the attic. I'd reach for the cat to get it out of its hiding spot, but yet i kept looking back at the stairs. I'd wonder. One night, a cousin of mine. Stops by the house with a bike. Though i think it was stolen, he gave it to my parents. My first bike. Red and black it was. All I’d do is ride that bike around the kitchen. Around and around the kitchen table. Just me and the bike.....and training wheels. During the day my Mother would sit on the porch as I’d ride my bike back and forth on the side walk in front of her. Trying to impress her by showing how fast I could go. Restrictions were strict I couldn't go past the third house. Every once and awhile I’d sneak up to that corner just to see what’s on the other side. Nothing could stop me! ...except grass and a nasty skid mark on the face from falling off. I was so scared. I thought my face would be like that forever. Blood and dirt slashed across side of my face, the result of it sliding across the concert side walk. I feared the bike now. I had no real injuries like that before, ever. As time goes so does injuries. I would once again conquer that bike.
The scenery would change in a short while. It was time to move. Soon we would move to a house on South Michigan street. It was quite a big house. Made of wood and painted yellow. Big indeed it was. I shared a room up stairs with my sister. The path to our room was tricky. You see i had never really dealt with stairs before. And these stairs were short and narrow. I'd look up and it looked like it'd take forever just to climb up them. Because that’s what I did for the first month or so, just climbs up them. Hands then knees. On the way down I’d always hug the wall for that "Just in case". When I found out our room would be all the way upstairs I was shocked. I'd never been so far away from my parents before. Their room always used to be a only just a few feet away. Now what am I supposed to do when the boogie man comes at night? Walk out the room down dark dark stairs and just leave my sister behind? A resolution had to be found. That’s when mother told me that they invented a device on the market which they called the "Night Light" which would produce a soft glow that kept the closet person in the next room away. I'd always stare at the door to my room, like I was ready for somebody/something to just walk through at any time, but past the door I only saw darkness. To shut the door also felt like i had no escape. And this is how the new house was.
We had a bunk beds in our room. I was the older so I had to sleep on the top bunk. Being the small child I was I always had the fear of just falling off the bed in the middle of the night. What a way to go to sleep too, fearing that you will end up on the floor. One night something did happen, I had awoken from a clatter. A shady figure fluttered freely in the room. As it neared the window illuminated by the moonlight it could clearly be seen that it was a bat. "Mom!" me and my sisters first instinct. She ran up the stairs and had seen it was a bat after turning on the lights. Now basically a bat is a rat with wings. So a women's natural reaction is to panic. Her panicking caused the panic in us to stir the kettle. In comes father with a net he uses to catch fish out of the water. After many attempts the beast was detained. We never figured out how a bat was able to enter the house. Maybe through an air vent on the top of the house, maybe. The next room over across from ours is what we called the play room. The rooms decor consisted of my sister's and I toys scattered all over the place like we were playing with hurricanes. Little People play sets and toy cars, one in each corner. I had the ability to create little worlds in that room. I controlled the fires and I controlled the firemen. If I wanted He-Man to be the mayor of Little People town, by golly he would be. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is why we have She-Ra. Girl toys always threw me off balance, she'd always be there when I was making fake food on the fake oven. I'd whip her across the room by her plastic stranded hair.
By day I was a Three Wheeler Bandit. It was black with 3 red wheels. Riding a three wheeler is so fun. The body of it is so relaxing, laid back. Just move your feet at the end a little and you have energy for your stead, transportation. It being a new house I had to explore. Everyday a new adventure would play out in the back yard. It would be hosted in my head, and if you were around me you would be a
I was ready for my day I had been prepping myself for this for awhile now. The day I ride without training wheels. My father standing behind me and holding me on the seat as I try my best to hold this bike upright without falling over. Our driveway was a long one, very. My father waited for my command, as I was bracing myself for an important step in my life. Riding a bike without training wheels. A key element to the up and coming stages of my misspent youth. Like a camera that pans out of my eyes and into the sky to hang above me. I can see myself at that very moment. My heart beat tempo raised to a high pitch and I said "I'm ready". He let me go. I had attempted this before, but every time I’d freeze for a second and in that second I’d just fall over on the bike. This time i didn't. This was the time that it would be different. Fathers words stuck with me. Move your feet pedal! he shouted to me as I rolled away down the driveway. I began to move my feet up and down as I came back from a collective frenzy. I found the rythmatic motion that I needed. I'm going! I'm going! I'm doing it! I was so happy I forgot how to stop. The look in my face turned to quick shock as I realized I was now almost to the road from my drive way. "I gotta think fast" First reaction I take is veering my handle bars to the right. This made me crash right into the side of the house. Skidded across the side house with my body THEN eventually keeling over and have the bike land on me pinning me to the ground.