As a child, I…

…used to dream about having a fantastic family.

…danced with my sister all summer long.

…built dams in the creek and loved making friends with the salamanders.

…traveled to India.

…was able to understand my own existence and feel how lucky I was to be.

…kissed slugs and loved frogs.

…choked a girl with shoelaces.

…was too free.

…lived in fear of upsetting Sister Mary Elizabeth.

…fell out of a second story window and survived!

…dreamed of being Barbie, so I became a model… and failed.

…would not rest my eyes or go to bed at night without fully believing that the stages, lights, costumes, songs, concepts I dreamed of would one day turn into a very bright, joyful and prosperous reality.

…sat in the basement with my sister in the dark pretending to be on a flight to Tahiti.

…wanted to be an Olympic gymnast.

…made funny faces all day long.

…had such high hopes.

…could fly.

…was painfully shy.

…knew everything.

…ate vegemite all day long like it was going out of fashion.

…ate mudpies.

…believed in dragons. I’m still looking.

…had a pet duck named Wilbur.

…wanted to be an octopus.

…fell in love with a boy named Daniel.

…dreamed of having a family.

…knew I was destined for greatness.

…was too precocious for words. I’d slap my little self right now, if I could.

…was much too sensitive.

…had actual, meaningful conversations with tress and flowers and animals and birds.

…could think of nothing more fun than spending all day in bed, reading. I am now very fat and very smart.

…made things with my hands. Moved all day long, constantly on one adventure or another. I was happy. I was a really happy boy.

…never left my mother’s lap.

…found everything mysterious. Felt like an alien on the wrong planet. Not in a bad way… it’s just all still so weird to me. This world.

Thanks to all those who wander through and stop to share themselves with us.