Bestest Memories
Some of my bestest memories of childhood (bestest was a word that I liked to use a lot) are of things that I no longer even think about. It seems strange they don’t even cross my mind anymore, when as young-uns, we used to spend whole summers doing all that fun stuff. Swinging on swings and booting other children with your feet, burning slugs alive with a magnifying glass. Ah, blissful memories of all the great things that we now know are a lot of fun, but just as wrong as chin implants. Still, they were fun though. Though please don’t attempt to murder a slug because of me.
I was walking through the park the other day when I passed some swings that were begging to be ridden. I looked about me for other adults who might possibly judge me to be a complete idiot, then I threw caution to the wind and ran over like a giddy child. Then the fun started, wondrous and taking me right back to how things used to be. Back in the days before alcohol, women, responsibilities and love. How it was good to go back to that time and just have nothing else to think about. Until I started getting really high–
It was then that I realized that I didn’t know what to do–had I really jumped off at this height? Me, as a small child? It seemed impossible and dumb, and then it happened–I chucked myself off.
And landed in a heap of sore old man body and miserable regret.
But it was fun. I plan to do it a lot more from now on.
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