| | I've
done too much. I'm 15 years young and I've seen, I've heard, I've done
too much. I seemingly find joy in the mundane, but what else do we have
til death? This isn't a chronicle of depression or an essay of defeat.
This is why I am, the way I am. Childhood memories are sweet dreams, so
why should they be private.
I like butterflys. I enjoy the whole motif of metamorphosis and change. But this series has to do with why-
I
remember first grade. My first "boyfriend" (insert awwwww here). My
first fight (Ashley Carson, of course I remember). I mean, first grade
was awesome. And we had this project near the end of the year. We had
to "grow" butterflies. I remember looking at the little critters in the
jars and thinking, "How could this be beautiful?" To my amazement, at
the end of the year, we released them at the Botanical Gardens. At that
moment, I knew thats what I wanted to do.
Be free.
But
I've done too much. Not to say that it won't happen, or that I feel
upset even now. I'm pretty happy with life and fate, just in a mellow,
retrospect mood.
Treasure
========================================
And now for some light humour:
Son: "Daddy, I have to write a special report for school, but I don't know what Politics is."
Father: "Well, let's take our home as an example. I am the bread-winner, so let's call me Capitalism. Your Mum is the administrator of money, so we'll call her Government. We take care of your need, so let's call you The People. We'll call the maid the Working Class and your brother we can call The Future. Do you understand son?"
Son: "I'm not really sure, Dad. I'll have to think about it."
That
night awakened by his brother's crying, the boy went to see what was
wrong. Discovering that the baby had seriously soiled his diaper, the
boy went to his parents' room and found his mother sound asleep. He
went to the maid's room, where, peeking through the keyhole, he saw his
father in bed with the maid. The boy's knocking went totally unheeded
by his father and the maid, so the boy returned to his room and went
back to sleep.
The next morning he reported to his father.
Son: "Dad, now I think I understand what Politics is."
Father: "Good son! Can you explain it to me in your own words?"
Son: "Well
Dad, while Capitalism is screwing the Working Class, Government is
sound asleep, the People are being completely ignored and the Future is
full of Shit." |
| | Posted 6/25/2006 4:45 PM - 1 View - 0 eProps - 0 comments
- recommend
  - recs0
- share
- email
 - sent0
|
