Thursday, October 25, 2012

Well color me nostalgic.

Writing Territories
Fears - 
growth
Annoyances - born entitlement
Accomplishments - trust
Confusions - emotions
Sorrows - loss 
Dreams - legacy
Idiosyncrasies - affectionate
Risks - trust
Beloved Possessions, Now and Then - cd player, 120 ct box of crayons
Problems - secrets

It still upsets me that I don't know where my box of crayons is.  It's caused a few fights between my mother and me, actually.  I can't help it if I'm sixteen and my favorite pastime is still coloring.  I know it's a shared interest with other high schoolers; they just aren't as passionate as I am about it. And crayons are better than colored pencils and markers.  They fit in the hand better.  If they break into tiny pieces (and we all know what that's like) they can be melted into original colors and new crayons.  They remind us of what being a kid is.  They allow all of the memories to come back of kindergarten, of the cards we made for our moms on Mother's Day, of the first time we didn't go outside any lines.  The word itself just looks so creative.  If only I had my box...

No comments:

Post a Comment