5:23 p.m. - 2004-10-27
A sight for sore eyes
It's sad the way everything changes so quickly. Well, maybe not sad, but it certainly has been making me think and usually that leads to slight sadness. I don't wish things stayed the same. Not at all. I'm okay with change, but I remember how things were and how people change. It seems like my friends are being pulled apart lately. I don't know how to explain it. I could spend the time to find a perfect analogy for what is taking place, but I can just as easily blame it on life and the robotic ways in which we grow up and mature, if that's what you'd like to call it. Robotic seems to be my favorite word lately, because I use it at least once a day- usually to describe my day, in fact. Everything is routine and programmed and I hate to follow the trend and call us all sheep, but we do tend to take on brainwashed looks when asked for our opinions. There are a lot of people who are unique and that's amazing, but I doubt even they escape robotic customs.
I really want something exciting to happen and I want a big change that is for the good and I want to meet a lot of new people because routines get old quickly. I sort of miss when I was in, well, it was probably up until the fourth grade or so, when I used to get along with Rehtaeh[idea stolen] and we had so much fun. Really. We played kick the can with Nevets and we used to pretend we were princesses that had been orphaned and we ran around the neighborhood collecting berries for the clan of "witches" that had captured us. We'd make their brews and sing their songs and "fly" around the street. I loved it. We did this for hours. We really did have vivid imaginations. When she got tired of me, as sisters often do, she would lock, yes- lock, me outside and I would have to play by myself. I never really had a problem with this actually. I would go and make up my own stories and run around and make things out of sand and mud. I didn't need her. I didn't need anyone.
My dad used to go to work at five in the morning every single day and I would already be awake [I didn't even sleep well then] and I would be playing with my Cherry-merry dolls and the counting cups. My dollhouse made too much noise, so I took the little plastic dolls and I would place them in the counting cups and have conversations with them. You see, counting cups are these little plastic cups that are different colors and they fit inside each other because they all differ in size. I never wanted to wake anyone else up, so I would do this for hours and then when my dad came out of his room and started getting ready for work, I knew it was time for Gummi Bears to come on TV. I don't know how many of you were up before 5 am when you were little, but I couldn't miss that show and my dad was how I knew when it was on. I would go and sit down and he'd put on the right channel for me. My mom still tells me how amazed he used to be that I could just amuse myself for hours talking to dolls and watching bears bounce around the screen. I guess I'm easily amused.
It's funny how independent we are when we're that young and how free we actually are to do what we want. Sure, your parents can lock you up and make you take naps and choose your clothes and food, but they can't influence your thoughts. I bet that's amazing. I probably don't know because we don't develope memories before 3 years of age, but I image having no one influence your thoughts is wonderful. You do what you want because you know you can. I wish, depsite everything, that I had the mentality I did then, because I was so independent and I didn't need anyone. I made myself happy and I never felt like I was missing out on anything. I can still mostly control my emotions and I'd say I'm pretty independent, but I wish that along with that sense of not needing people also came a feeling of not missing out on anything, because I think that's what gets me. That and guilt and maybe because even I am a little brainwashed and robotic.
When I was younger I also had an impish way of handling revenge. I didn't let anything get to me. When Rehtaeh used to be mean to me and push me around, I would take it all quite nicely, but then I would get my revenge by waiting until she was lying down on the ground and then standing on her hair and refusing to move or by telling my older cousins, whom she was always trying to impress, that she wouldn't go into the deep dark cellar without me because she was afraid, but I practically lived down there alone. I'm not saying I was nice, but sometimes I wish I was a complete bitch. Who knows? Maybe I am that already. Maybe.
I suppose there's no use in wishing I was these things that I used to be, but sometimes it's just interesting to remember and think about how much has actually changed. I sort of wish I could have a conversation with myself from a long time ago. Although, I imagine it would go something like this:
Me Now: Hello there
Me Then: *blinks* hi.....(said in a near whisper)
MN: Do you know who I am?
MT: *shakes head and continues playing with favorite Cherry-Merry doll*
MN: My name is Danielle.
MT: *Is starting to get annoyed and bored with MN and starts tuning out all sounds*
MN: Well, I don't suppose much has changed. Hmmm....did you watch gummi bears this morning?
MT: *face lights up* Mm hmm.
Yeah, that's pretty much how it would continue. I knew more then I'd say. I hope I still do, but I doubt it. I tend to speak up more now. There are a lot of advantages to being quiet, even if they aren't obvious.
What were you like when you were younger? What are some questions you would ask your childhood self if given the opportunity? I'd really like to know. Really. I'd really like to have an amazing conversation with you soon.
Greenday Concert Tomorrow!!!!
