|Something to Think About (standard:other, 578 words)|
|Author: Julia McGinty||Added: Oct 04 2001||Views/Reads: 1890/1||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A reflection of the lasting effects of childhood events...|
These days, when I look back, I realise that I havenít changed. Maybe the worldís changed around me, and Iíve learned more about a lot of things, but I havenít really changed. Just developed, I suppose you could say. Developed into the person I am today, but essentially the same stuff is still inside me. The same bloodís running through my veins, my brains are still made out of the same grey matter, and many of the same thoughts still run through my head. Theyíre just developed thoughts now - taken from adolescent naivety and cultivated, watered, and fertilised until they became full-blown comprehensions of whatís actually happening in my life. Most people seem to find that, over time, their memory fades away, andtheyíre only left with the particularly vivid bits - just fragments of the whole picture. But me, I can remember so many things so clearly, even when Iíve tried so hard to forget them. Like the time in the Art Room where Alex Jennings asked me if I was a pimp, just because my friends were all girls. Thatís stuck in my memory like a spud in an exhaust pipe - it just sits there and waits for someone to turn on the ignition, to mention a crucial word which could bring everything flooding back, so it can explode and give the driver a hell of a fright. Or the time that my father called to wish me happy birthday, but he called a month early. Maybe he was only a teenager when I was born, and couldnít handle the responsibility, but he could at least remember Iím alive. That was my thirteenth birthday, and I havenít heard from him since. But, I suppose, what man would want a son like me anyway? As my motherís told me thousands of times, I was an accident. A pure accident, and I would have been aborted, except her parents had made her keep me, to teach her a lesson. So I exist because of my motherís irresponsibility. Thatís one of my matured thoughts. I realise that now - the truth about my existence. When I was younger I believed I existed because I was meant to be here, because I had something great to do on this earth. Now I realise that thatís just my childhood naivety popping up again. When youíre young, you can tell yourself things like that because you believe you have the answers to everything. But then you grow up and realise how many things you donít know, and suddenly everything you do know becomes clearer. Do you know what I mean? Itís like, the sudden realisation of your own ignorance leads you to cling on to things that you do know, so you study them. You take them apart and turn them inside out and put them back together and smell them and taste them and feel them - until you know that theyíre true. You just know. So now I know a few things. It might not be much, and it might not be very intelligent, but itís all Iíve got, really. When you donít get to interact with other people very much, what do you have except the thoughts inside your head? They may not always be rational, or very good conversation, but theyíre something to hang on to when half the people you know are pushing you off a cliff, and the other half are just watching you fall. Tweet
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