About Myself

June 14, 2012
By , Vancouver, Canada
Let me tell you about myself.

I use to believe that

I was a mermaid swimming with flippers searching the ocean floor that

I could control animals by staring into their eyes that

I could cure every disease known to this world that

I had a twin and someday we would find each other.
But then I nearly drowned, so I no longer wanted to swim were the mermaids played.
But then I met a blind cat and I couldn’t control her.
But then I was told I wasn’t smart enough to cure a disease.
But then I learned that if I had a twin I would probably know about by now.

I didn’t believe that sunscreen actually worked.
Sunburns hurt.
I’m easy to spot- the elongated tomato. That’s me.
Brown shirts give the illusion that my burn is more of a tan- that’s why, at Michaels where tee’s are five bucks, I buy them in bulk.
I live in those shirts- there are plenty of stains

the time we went for hotdogs downtown

the time I fell off my bike and went sliding down the Queen Es biggest hill

the time I didn’t dodge quickly enough and the football hit me in the middle of my
nose- blood and tears running down my face as you tried to make me laugh
I did eventually laugh but

that strange combination of laughing and crying that makes my face get twice as red and freeze it in a cheshire grin.

Hand shakes, friendship bracelets, secret circles, friends forever.
Skinny legs in skinny jeans, trying to replicate the popular look.
Spending time and money on a look that makes you blend in- luckily,

I could never blend in with

my tartan octagon glasses,

my twisted teeth,

my long neck,

my clumsy walk.
The giant wooden climbing frame transforming into a home.
A home in which I would always be the mom because I was the tall one.
“Please can I be the dog this time?” “Sure. The mother dog”.

“People are going to know my name!”, I use to think.
But with seven billion people now living on this earth,
there is a good chance
they won’t.

That there is no time to waste on fear
That there is no time to wait on hope
That there is time to act on instinct

The Chris and Martin had the right idea,
Zoboomafoo and the jeep,
Roaming through forests and jungles then coming back to a snack machine- always full
Exploring what was put in front of them.
Because like them, I am still hungry, wondering

how as a species I will adapt.
And maybe if the snack machine carried answers instead of food,

society would be obese with knowledge instead of fat.

But I will continue singing “The sun will come out tomorrow”

until I remember to put on sunscreen.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback