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The days have become so long, and the nights so warm, that I've been able to take my evening walks again. It's a nice alternative to the gym.
Last night, as I walked around our neighborhood and near the local high school, I saw an orange backpack. It was just laying there, on the grass. If it could think, would it feel lonely? Abandoned? If it couldn't, well, I certainly felt lonely and abandoned for it. Actually, I felt bad for the parents who probably worked hard to buy it and provide for their child, only to have him/her leave the backpack there. I mean, you lose a pencil or notebook here and there, but to lose an entire backpack, on the grass and by the road? Whose kid was it? Does s/he miss it? Did s/he do his/her homework? What will happen to the backpack?
When you're a very young child, it's an entirely different story. I remember when my dad and I found a little toy laser gun that made different noises when you pressed the trigger. It must've fallen out of a little kid's stroller or carriage. He must've missed it. I also remember feeling very bad for that child and for the toy that lost its owner. Geez, by now the kid has probably forgotten all about it, but then here's me, years later, still thinking about it.
Or maybe he hasn't forgotten it. I still remember the first balloon that someone ever bought me. My parents never bought me any balloons when we walked by street vendors who sold them, even though I unsuccessfully gave hints by shooting many lingering looks. My cousin finally decided to buy one for me one day. It was big and purple and had the face of an octopus on it. It had little green balloons under it, like a bow-tie. Everything was on a string, which was tied to a little plastic bag with a piece of stone in it so the balloon didn't float away. I took it to our backyard and curiously opened the little plastic bag with the stone in it, wondering why that was there. Next thing I knew, the balloon floated out of my hand, and I was too young to know what the heck I just did. I remember seeing the big purple and green thing flying away into some unknown, never to be seen again. And I've never forgotten it.
I guess I lose things so infrequently that when I do, I don't forget it. It's always been like this. It's the complex set of emotions and memories that are tied to the objects. Sometimes I feel them very acutely.
Maybe I'm just an overly sentimental (mawkish? soppy? maudlin? what's the SAT word I'm looking for?) person when it comes to certain possessions.
That, or I'm always PMSing.
Thoughts from a sleep-deprived (freudian slip: depraved) civil servant:
- It is not anti-immigrant to say that people should not be granted legal status in this country if they use fraud to obtain it.
- 20% of the people should not be doing 80% of the work.
- It is crazy that people think about greener alternatives only when their pocket books are hurting. Already they should be thinking about it, every single day.
- It is ok not to belong and act like everyone else.
- Where are these iPod plug-in things that take place of MP3s/CDs and allow you to learn the language?
- Single-engine planes are not cool.
- Chain mail is stupid. People who send those along to their friends and loved ones are stupid.
- And to end on a more positive note, pomellos are delicious.
- Sleep is good, too.
