Hungry Hungry Hippos
I looked at the hungry hippo standing on the water, it looked back at me. It wanted to eat me, my eighteen month mind knew that much. I was afraid, truly. As my parents urged me to go stand next to it and I cried in resistance. In the end they had managed to get me to stand on top of the crystal clear water right next to the animal. Next they said to me “Climb into the hippo’s mouth.” Were my parents crazy, I knew in the back of my mind that if I did, nothing would happen, but the fear overpowered my common scenes. Of course my cousin (who was with us by the way) climbed right into the mouth like it was something he did every day. I clearly wasn’t the brave one. I was an unstable little child. That did not change for a long long time.
Rainbows and Unicorns and Six Year Olds
The first five or six years of my life I hid. I hid from the other six year olds who were mean and wanted to hurt me. Instead of surrounding myself with those abusive children, I surrounded myself with girly things like rainbows and unicorns. Eventually I realized that what I wanted wasn’t to feel comfortable in the presence of stupid toys, it was to have real friends, so in the middle of my kindergarten year, I changed. I purposely changed almost everything that was
wrong with me. Instead of playing with unicorns, I played with action figures, instead of liking rainbows, I liked cool things like guns and war. Although I had changed, those six year olds never did. We were the same, but they didn’t treat me like it. We swam in the same crystal clear water, but I was at the other end of the pool, the shallow end. I was afraid of them, they didn’t see me as the same, they saw me as what I started out as. In my mind, I was them, in theirs, I played with unicorns.
Mischievous Cats
I loved those stories. About the cats. We all did. It was what I remember when I think about second grade. Almost every day we would anticipate a new story. They seemed so exciting at the time, but now e the rants of an easily distracted teacher. Even though I know they aren’t as amazing as they seemed, I would still go back to relive the innocence that allowed me to enjoy the unenjoyable. The cats seemed to be so perfect as they stayed away from things they didn’t like, even the clear water waiting to bath them. That was what I shared with everyone, it was what was so good about being children. Now it is different, I have no time for the cats.
Blow Silently
Seventh grade was the low point of my life. I had forced myself into situations that I couldn’t handle. I was terrified of one of my teachers. It was band that was so bad. I was a seventh grader in a whole class of eighth graders. There was enough pressure already. On top of that, the teacher was in-comforting. He would literally have temper tantrums and throw instruments against the wall. I, as a trumpet player had to empty the water build up in my instrument that after a few songs would appear. To do this I had to open a little valve and blow through the instrument. When the teacher grew angry, I still had to use this same process. When he heard someone emptying the water, he would scream at them, so I had to blow out of my trumpet as quietly as possible. I slowly would allow the clear water to leave the instrument, the water of the trumpet mixing with the sweat dripping from my for head. I wanted nothing more then for the period to end. When it did, I just went home scared not relieved.
Water and Fire
Water doesn’t always put out fire. Sometimes the opposite happens. I had stayed in the shallow end for to long. It was time to end everything wrong with me, all the mistakes I had made in my child hood. It was fear that kept me in the shallow end, nothing else. It was all in my head. What I did was simple. I had to get rid of what I was scared of. So I burned the water. The fire easily drained the pool. I saw the deep end, now it was all mine. I started walking towards it. It was so close. This is what I had wanted my whole life. One more step until I would be like everyone else. Instead of making that last step, I tripped. I was stuck on the declining slop between the two ends. It was good enough, I wouldn't fight for a different place any more.
The Hippo’s Mouth
I was moving on to High school. Because I decided to somehow be more then everyone else, I attended ASTI instead of a regular school. I was more ready for this then anything else in my life. I was so tired of trying to blend in and be unsuccessful, it was time to do something that would set me apart. I was to good for any other system. I remember that first morning. I woke up had a glass of water, and got ready to leave. On the way i was scared of course so I tried to think of other things like fire. When I arrived I remember walking up that slope at the entrance of College of Alameda. I didn’t trip. I got to the campus, said hello to a few old friends and met some new ones. When my phone told me it was time for class to start, I put my back pack on, climbed up the stairs, and walked directly into the hippo’s mouth.
I looked at the hungry hippo standing on the water, it looked back at me. It wanted to eat me, my eighteen month mind knew that much. I was afraid, truly. As my parents urged me to go stand next to it and I cried in resistance. In the end they had managed to get me to stand on top of the crystal clear water right next to the animal. Next they said to me “Climb into the hippo’s mouth.” Were my parents crazy, I knew in the back of my mind that if I did, nothing would happen, but the fear overpowered my common scenes. Of course my cousin (who was with us by the way) climbed right into the mouth like it was something he did every day. I clearly wasn’t the brave one. I was an unstable little child. That did not change for a long long time.
Rainbows and Unicorns and Six Year Olds
The first five or six years of my life I hid. I hid from the other six year olds who were mean and wanted to hurt me. Instead of surrounding myself with those abusive children, I surrounded myself with girly things like rainbows and unicorns. Eventually I realized that what I wanted wasn’t to feel comfortable in the presence of stupid toys, it was to have real friends, so in the middle of my kindergarten year, I changed. I purposely changed almost everything that was
wrong with me. Instead of playing with unicorns, I played with action figures, instead of liking rainbows, I liked cool things like guns and war. Although I had changed, those six year olds never did. We were the same, but they didn’t treat me like it. We swam in the same crystal clear water, but I was at the other end of the pool, the shallow end. I was afraid of them, they didn’t see me as the same, they saw me as what I started out as. In my mind, I was them, in theirs, I played with unicorns.
Mischievous Cats
I loved those stories. About the cats. We all did. It was what I remember when I think about second grade. Almost every day we would anticipate a new story. They seemed so exciting at the time, but now e the rants of an easily distracted teacher. Even though I know they aren’t as amazing as they seemed, I would still go back to relive the innocence that allowed me to enjoy the unenjoyable. The cats seemed to be so perfect as they stayed away from things they didn’t like, even the clear water waiting to bath them. That was what I shared with everyone, it was what was so good about being children. Now it is different, I have no time for the cats.
Blow Silently
Seventh grade was the low point of my life. I had forced myself into situations that I couldn’t handle. I was terrified of one of my teachers. It was band that was so bad. I was a seventh grader in a whole class of eighth graders. There was enough pressure already. On top of that, the teacher was in-comforting. He would literally have temper tantrums and throw instruments against the wall. I, as a trumpet player had to empty the water build up in my instrument that after a few songs would appear. To do this I had to open a little valve and blow through the instrument. When the teacher grew angry, I still had to use this same process. When he heard someone emptying the water, he would scream at them, so I had to blow out of my trumpet as quietly as possible. I slowly would allow the clear water to leave the instrument, the water of the trumpet mixing with the sweat dripping from my for head. I wanted nothing more then for the period to end. When it did, I just went home scared not relieved.
Water and Fire
Water doesn’t always put out fire. Sometimes the opposite happens. I had stayed in the shallow end for to long. It was time to end everything wrong with me, all the mistakes I had made in my child hood. It was fear that kept me in the shallow end, nothing else. It was all in my head. What I did was simple. I had to get rid of what I was scared of. So I burned the water. The fire easily drained the pool. I saw the deep end, now it was all mine. I started walking towards it. It was so close. This is what I had wanted my whole life. One more step until I would be like everyone else. Instead of making that last step, I tripped. I was stuck on the declining slop between the two ends. It was good enough, I wouldn't fight for a different place any more.
The Hippo’s Mouth
I was moving on to High school. Because I decided to somehow be more then everyone else, I attended ASTI instead of a regular school. I was more ready for this then anything else in my life. I was so tired of trying to blend in and be unsuccessful, it was time to do something that would set me apart. I was to good for any other system. I remember that first morning. I woke up had a glass of water, and got ready to leave. On the way i was scared of course so I tried to think of other things like fire. When I arrived I remember walking up that slope at the entrance of College of Alameda. I didn’t trip. I got to the campus, said hello to a few old friends and met some new ones. When my phone told me it was time for class to start, I put my back pack on, climbed up the stairs, and walked directly into the hippo’s mouth.
No comments:
Post a Comment