Dialogue Between Parent and Progeny
I was always a relatively articulate young man. I started this journal when I started high school. What for many are the defining years of their lives were cut short for me; where others grew from their high school adventures, I grew through writing about how I feel, about who I am and what I want to be. I look back and often feel that I missed out on something that would have radically altered who I am, maybe even for the better. But I also realize that I have a rare gift that many others didn't have: This journal, and my ability to write in it.
Sometimes when I look back, I see a foolish idiot and can't believe I developed out of that. But most of the time, I see me, exactly who I am today, maybe even greater, only something like 8 years ago (I've lost count, because I am officially old). I see someone who is sensitive, strong, intelligent, creative, and determined. I see someone who isn't afraid to believe something, do something, or be something defined not by culture, not by others, but by myself, after serious consideration. I'm not the product of anything other than my courage to look at myself in the mirror, understand what I'm looking at--what I love about it, and what I hate about it--and then do something about it.
I'm more Parent than Progeny now. I was never and will always be a child. I have always been yet will never become a fully developed adult. I'm more parent than progeny now, but only in age. And I believe the distinction is indistinct.
I go to FAU now. I eat at Wendy's quite often. I eat chicken only, really, and Wendy's offers not only the best priced lunch (at just under $4) but also one of the only distinctively chicken dishes. On Friday's, no one shows up to school. Any other day, 5 minutes of tardiness means 20 minutes of tardiness, because in those 5 minutes the entire parking lot fills up; on Friday's, there isn't a car in the lot. Likewise, there isn't a person in line at the Wendy's.
There are some things I'm picky about; there are some things I prefer; there are lots of things that I'm favorably disposed to, if favorable disposition is only a thought. When it comes to action, however, apparently I have no favorable disposition: In line was a very pretty girl. She looked modest, yet very attractive. She was short, adorable, quiet. She looked like she was probably studying some kind of science, and what ever else we can infer from a glance and a thought. If conscience angels exist, he appeared on my shoulder and said, "Matt, say hi." I looked at her without looking to be notice. Say, "Hey, man campus sure is quiet today, huh?" Say, "I love Friday's, there's never a line." Say, "You have a class today? That's unfortunate." Say, "You've been waiting quite a while." Say anything.
I said nothing. I stand in the mirror; I see something I hate. I've always been my own parent, and thats the way I'll always be.
Sometimes when I look back, I see a foolish idiot and can't believe I developed out of that. But most of the time, I see me, exactly who I am today, maybe even greater, only something like 8 years ago (I've lost count, because I am officially old). I see someone who is sensitive, strong, intelligent, creative, and determined. I see someone who isn't afraid to believe something, do something, or be something defined not by culture, not by others, but by myself, after serious consideration. I'm not the product of anything other than my courage to look at myself in the mirror, understand what I'm looking at--what I love about it, and what I hate about it--and then do something about it.
I'm more Parent than Progeny now. I was never and will always be a child. I have always been yet will never become a fully developed adult. I'm more parent than progeny now, but only in age. And I believe the distinction is indistinct.
I go to FAU now. I eat at Wendy's quite often. I eat chicken only, really, and Wendy's offers not only the best priced lunch (at just under $4) but also one of the only distinctively chicken dishes. On Friday's, no one shows up to school. Any other day, 5 minutes of tardiness means 20 minutes of tardiness, because in those 5 minutes the entire parking lot fills up; on Friday's, there isn't a car in the lot. Likewise, there isn't a person in line at the Wendy's.
There are some things I'm picky about; there are some things I prefer; there are lots of things that I'm favorably disposed to, if favorable disposition is only a thought. When it comes to action, however, apparently I have no favorable disposition: In line was a very pretty girl. She looked modest, yet very attractive. She was short, adorable, quiet. She looked like she was probably studying some kind of science, and what ever else we can infer from a glance and a thought. If conscience angels exist, he appeared on my shoulder and said, "Matt, say hi." I looked at her without looking to be notice. Say, "Hey, man campus sure is quiet today, huh?" Say, "I love Friday's, there's never a line." Say, "You have a class today? That's unfortunate." Say, "You've been waiting quite a while." Say anything.
I said nothing. I stand in the mirror; I see something I hate. I've always been my own parent, and thats the way I'll always be.