'Selective Memory'
2000-08-22 - 20:44:38
�I remember this defense, progress fails pacific sense, all those sweet conspiracies, I remember all these things...� -REM
Prenote: About a week ago, Brad Pitt (TM) made an entry about his childhood memories. And shortly thereafter, there was a slight craze about diaryland members dragging up their childhood memories. So I just thought I�d join the bandwagon. Late.
Sidenote: I should also state that I am still a child. I�m seventeen, and still feel like an eighth-grader. Malkavia knows first-hand how childish I is. (Or we are, depending.)
Post-it-note (TM): She leaves for college the 26th...she�ll be approximately 336 miles (540 km) away...*longsighandsomepoutiness*
I remember rockjumping. There was a little brook behind our house when we were growing up, complete with ducks, snapping turtles, and leeches. The snappers occasionally ate the ducklings, and the leeches usually got on our feet, but we didn�t care too much. Sarah and I would go hopping down the brook, from stone to stone, trying not to slipp on the moss and tumble our tooshies into the water. Of course, we always fell in, whether it was purposeful or accidental; we were just having funn. Our cat, Smokey, would sometimes follow us to our �secret� tree house. Once he �rescued� me from slipping into the water and falling prey to eight-foot hungry leeches. We�d play crazy 8s and make up our own games to play in our tree house, like �rhymies�, and �point-blank�. (These games may be discussed in a later entry.) We would always come back to the house soaking wet, and Mum would always berate us for giving her kitchen handfuls of puddles. But she did so with a smile.
There was a paddle. When my mother was dating her first real boyfriend after the divorce, her kids were �disciplined�. Discipline consisted of her boyfriend bending a child over his knees, pulling down their pants, and beating them with a paddle. Sometimes he forced Mum (what I call my mother) to discipline us. I remember laughing at him. While he was spanking me, I�d laugh, and he�d continue, and I�d laugh more. Eventually, I�d give in and cry, but that was the game we played. And once, I won. The paddle broke one day, while I was being disciplined for something I probably didn�t do. And after a while, it stopped, because he was driven off to an asylum. I remember laughing.
I didn�t have very many material things when I was growing up, but I had a teddy bear which I was very close to. His name was Honey, and he had a little musicbox in his back. I would wind him up and goto sleep listening to his mechanical lullaby. Eventually, the musicbox wore down. My mother took him away from me for a while, and gave him �surgery�. I remember waiting in the kitchen, terrified that he wasn�t going to survive the operation. When I got him back, Honey didn�t sing. He had a large seam down his back, and a little less filling inside. There was no key to wind him up. His plastic eyes never looked so sad.
[...this section removed, to protect the innocent...]
PS: how many licks does it take to get the centre of your Tootsie Roll Pop (TM)?
