Brooding

Earliest Memory

My earliest memory that I remember having doesn't make any fucking sense to me. I believe I was either two or three years old. It's from my perspective and in my peripheral vision I see both of my arms raised, my hands conquered by those of my grandparents. Though I cannot see their face, I can feel their smiles. Even to this day, for some reason still unbeknownst to me, I know they're happy. We are at the county fair, where we go every year for the fun rides and delicious elephant ears (absolutely amazing). It was a hot day, the number that penetrates my thoughts is 86 degrees, though I don't know why. At the top of my peripheral vision, I can make out the contour of a glaring sun. I can look at it, though it seems to be shining brightly. I watch it closely, as it changes sometimes, setting a different mood each time. We are standing in front of a concession stand of some sort, it has no words written on it, yet I know it is a lemonade stand. I look back on this memory, a scene photographically encased inside my indecipherable mind. It sticks out so vividly... and yet I don't know why. I can not find any meaning in it. I suppose that is it's meaning, that not everything has a reason. That just because I do or say something doesn't mean that I had a reason for it, let alone a good one. Maybe it just means that that's what I felt like doing and that's okay. Because we all do that. We all do things where we just want to do something, so "fuck it, let's go! Let's do this, screw the consequences." But we need to be aware of what we do, because this can hurt the wrong people... those closest to you. Tell me what you think, this has been a journey into a shallow end of my mind... 

Sorry for not updating my story yet, there's a really big chapter coming and I haven't had much time to work on it. I'll release it by Thanksgiving. Thanks, always a pleasure. XOXO