That Heartwarming Sound

While I was sitting in the car today playing with mum's keys like a three year old would, it reminded me of how hearing the sound of mum's car keys jingling would just instantly make me happy. Okay, fine, I'll explain before you all think I'm a freak.

When I was a kid, I could always tell my mum was coming (usually to pick me up from day care or something like that), and it always comforted me because I love being with my mum. Hearing that sound of her keys was just like "Oh, she's here now! I don't have to be here anymore!" so it has always given a sense of comfort and safety I guess (wow, I sound so lame right now).

I could write a bit more, but I feel like I'm digging myself some kind of hole here. So this post ends when I finish this sentence.

Thought-Theatre: Gods of War

I finally remembered another thing that happened with that kid who called me the "C" word (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, read this).

I was outside once again (not sure where - could have been my front yard or the park 10 seconds away). I was playing peacefully, which was most likely some kind of Pokemon or Mario game I played by myself, when him and a bunch of his friends (there was at least 3 others, and I think it was 2 guys and one girl), all on bikes, came up to me and started talking to me; but it was that "we just want to pick on you" talk. I'm almost certain I threatened to get my brother onto them, because I thought my brother was really strong just because he was older. I think they laughed at me.

I went inside to get my brother and his friend Andrew (who is one of the nicest guys in the world) who were watching TV at the time. I remember Andrew pouncing out of the chair and was on strict alert, and my brother unenthusiastically followed. I remember going around to the side of the house to fill up water bombs to chuck at them.

When we were walking up towards them, I had that huge rush of adrenaline you get when you're about to kick some serious ass or save the day. Matt, Andrew, and I each had about 3 to 5 water bombs, and Andrew started that whole 'defensive' talk back to the them, and I remember throwing a water bomb at one of the kid's tyres (I think he was about my age and had long blonde hair), and knowing my luck, the water bomb didn't pop but just rolled around on the road. They all laughed at me.

Sadly, that's where my heroic thought ends: knowing that I failed. But I'm pretty sure we won the war.

Deep Yearning

We'll miss her smile.
We'll miss her laugh.
We'll miss her strength.
We'll miss her craft.
We'll miss her energy.
We'll miss her care.
We'll miss her voice.
We'll miss her hair.
We'll miss her accent.
We'll miss her words.
We'll miss her flaws.
We'll miss her 'till it hurts.
We'll miss her clothes.
We'll miss her smell.
We'll miss her singing.
We'll miss her belle.
We'll miss her tears.
We'll miss her entrance.
We'll miss her jokes.
But most of all, we'll miss her presence.

Dedicated to the world's best German-turned-Australian exchange student, Lou.

With love from everyone at Moruya High School.

Thought-Theatre: The Boy Who Steals Stuff

I once had this friend (let's call him Hayden, because that was his name) and he was pretty well-off. He had pretty much everything a 7 year old boy could want: every toy known to man, a huge house with a pool and spa,  rich parents, and a grandma who cooked the most delicious things.

I remember one time I went to his house and I told him of a "boy who came around to people's houses and stole your stuff". He of course believed me, and I convinced him to put the things I wanted in my bag, then by the next morning I would pretend I forgot about them. One clear item I remember was a stuffed Charizard toy. One time, I managed to get a hold of his Pokedex (the real toy that worked and everything) and take it home. His dad took me home and I brought it out and showed mum and said "Mum, look what Hayden gave me!" knowing it was an outright lie because I knew I stole it. She said "Are you sure he gave it to you and not just lent it to you?" I replied with a greedy "Yep!", and she then said "I think we should give it back to him". I then had to give it back to his dad who took it home. I was Pokedex-less.

But it's not the first time (well, actually it might have been, but many other times followed). I remember going downstairs to his room once because I "needed to check my bag", but actually just stuffed a bunch of his Pokemon cards in my bag. I also took some of those 3D Pokemon Stadium cards you used to get in chip packets; it was the yellow-rimmed Meowth card (the rarest of them all). I don't know what happened to it though, but I know I successfully got it home.

And that's the story of me stealing my friend's stuff. Don't worry current friends, I never stole anything else from any of my friends.

Thought-Theatre: Christmas Day

I don't remember what year it was exactly, but it could have been around 1998. It was Christmas day and I remember wearing my pale blue/violet Mango t-shirt, and opening up a present which turned out to be a Batman Forever (or Batman & Robin) Robin on a motorbike of some kind - in fact there is a picture with all of that in it.

The next thing I remember, me, Matt, mum, dad, Mark (my uncle), and gran and grandad were all at my house and it was a bright, sunny day. We were all in the dining room and then ended up on the veranda, then we decided to get to Kingston Beach for the day (which was down Beach Rd). However, on the way we went past beach road and down Darcy's restaurant and up a little rural road (to this day I still have no idea what we were doing there). Then we went to the beach and from memory it seemed like we were only there for about 10 minutes, but in reality it was probably about an hour or two.

I then recall us going to a fish and chip shop and I would always get nothing but a potato scallop. And that's really all I remember of that day.

Those Days

I miss the days where nothing mattered. I miss the days where you could eat anything you want and not have anyone tell you that it will kill you. I miss the days where you could say "hello" to anyone, you you would get a friendly hello back. I miss the days where it seemed that no matter what, the sun would always shine in a clear blue sky, and if rain were to fall it would only be to make us happy.

I miss the days where selling out wasn't nearly as important as following your dreams. I miss the days when dad didn't have to slave his ass for hours on end just to put petrol in the car. I miss the days when youth didn't run riot and destroy the world. I miss the days when the simple life was the best life.

I miss the days when what we saw didn't mean as much as what we experienced. I miss the days when no one gave anyone hell for the way they looked or how they acted. I miss the days when it didn't cost us two limbs for sustenance. I miss the days when you were surrounded with a thick, yellow line. I miss the days when we weren't trying to make everything better. I miss the days when the world was something to explore and not something to fear.

I miss the days when my senses were nurtured with pleasantries and not profanity. I miss the days when teenagers weren't obsessed with the online world. I miss the days when we got along like peas and carrots. I miss the days where my mind magnified imagination, and didn't give a hoot about anything real.

But most of all, I miss the days when I was happy. When we were happy. We were all happy... And now I will never experience those days again, because what I have now has taken away and crushed what I used to take for granted. It will never be the same, but no one understands that...

Thought-Theatre: Jason

Ages ago (we're talking back when I only went to Lipscum day-care) I had this friend called Jason (at least I think that was his name; for the purposes of this blog, it is). Jason was a little boy like me, and I think he was a little younger than me. He had straight blonde hair and always seemed to smile and he used to wear knitted jumpers.

My only real memory of Jason is what he looked like and this one time at day-care it was a grey, dull day, and we were all outside playing and for some reason we were playing "family" (where each person pretends to be a member of the family); and no matter what, I always wanted to be the baby for some reason. And yeah, that's pretty much all I remember of him.

However, I have memories of the same (or a similar) day, where it was the first ever day I got to ride in one of those yellow karts they have at day-care centres (the ones shaped like eggs). Then mum picked me up and we drove through the outskirts of the city passed that pizza place I vaguely remember, and for the first time I saw the flashing yellow arrow on the traffic lights. I asked mum what it meant, and she told me that it means you can turn the way the arrow is pointing, slowly and with caution. And ever since, I remember that moment so clearly.