Things I think about all the time. With no purpose.
Like how I think ,when I first went to a circus, I saw a lion in a cage backstage. I wanted to run away, but not with the clowns. To somewhere safe. Which turned out not to be a phase, for I was not to be a risk taker. I was my own rule keeper. But if anyone wanted to know what they were, they’d need to be a mind reader. And I will never read enough, especially when I want to write. I am tight on time, and I wonder am I brave enough to write what I am meaning. Too worried someone may see it and misread me. Like the man who mistook me and my friends as brosettes when we were twelve when we didn’t know what we were . Besides, where would we get grolsch bottles tops from?
And I still wouldn’t know how to attach it to my shoe. And how teachers thought we knew what a smiley face represented before they told us we couldn’t wear those badges. When the most trouble I got in at school was for laughing in welsh classes. Not at the language but our stumbling takes and the look on the teachers face. Before standing in the playground talking about a girl stood behind me and styling it out. It’s over 35 years and I am still not sure I got away with that. But I wouldn’t let a bully stop me walking down a path because I had recently heard about Rosa Parks and the power of a no. Although, in retrospect I did bite off way more than I could have chewed if it didn’t go to plan. He was just a boy with dreams of being a big bad man. But I was brave when I was 12. Except that time there was a howling gale when we stayed in a youth hostel. And the noise fostered ideas of banshees. But it was just a dog who was too cold and an imagination out of control. Believing my short time on earth was gone. Until the sun came up and I calmed down.
I kept thinking when I grew up. Even though I stopped at 5ft 2 sensibilities just collecting more responsibilities. Slowly spotting the fallibilities of others. How fragile some smiles can be.
Thanks for reading this stream of consciousness, and letting me play with different styles of writing if you made it to the end.
Who know what I will write about next time I am here. I don’t, and that is part of the fun.
Enjoyed that