Of course I look innocent...but that's what kept me alive, haha...
Anyways, this post was supposed to be about questions I asked my parents when I was younger, but I couldn't come up with any.
So Shardhana suggested that I simply write about a childhood memory.
That boy, with the short, straight hair, and the extra excess body fat is, sadly admitted, me, and he liked to play with fire.
Well, one day he was looking for things to burn, and knowing that plastic melted very nicely, he decided to light a bag of cans on fire hoping that whoever discovered it would simply find a neat pile of cans. As the story goes on, we find our boy going back into the house thinking he had just done something clever. Not too long after this his mother called him into her room. He sat at the foot of the bed as usual and took what his mom had for him. In this instance, it was an article of mail to be run across the street to the mail box. He left the front porch without fire on his mind but a big red fire truck was all he saw. Everything went casually until the truth was revealed later that evening; his family was in the living room and were talking about the event. Had they already known? To this day I still wonder, but in that living room, a willing confession was admitted.
Don't play with fire my friends,
The truth will set you free,
but what is freedom but another bondage?
but perhaps if you do play with fire...
Do so with the knowledge that it is contagious and the air we breath is flammable.
p.s. my hair curled as I got older...that's genetics for you
p.p.s my intellect also curled, you can thank humanity for that
p.p.p.s and oh yeah...next week I'm going to Kids Kamp to watch little kids be little kids
It's gonna be good.
p.p.p.p.s. when I thought of writing this post I think I had more envisioned...hopefully I didn't forget to much
4 comments:
Your intellect also curled. I liked that. Transformation.
Greetings from London.
Don't play with fire. hehe. Did I tell you that I almost burnt the kitchen down. When I was 11. My mum was furious. My dad didn't say much....
Italy was quite enjoyable even though my mother's whining was quite unstopable.
As for the fire, I had the same habit when I was young too. Though one day I put some wax in a saucepan and melted it. At some point it caught fire, so I threw some water in and a small explosion happened. The water was thrown everywhere. It took me almost forever to mop it...
Fire shouldnt be played wit haha.
U should put that picture on myspace u luk so kute =P
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