thomsen.

So I'm told that if you write and keep on writing new ideas will come. It seem to be the same concepts in the movie, "Field of Dreams", which Kevin Costner stars. "If you believe, they will come." I often wondered how true that is in real life since I've never experience anything similar to that. You would like to believe that every dream comes true, but it isn't always so. I remember my English teacher always talking about our journals that i's always best to write whatever we wanted to. Back then, I couldn't believe that I had so much freedom to write whatever I wanted. 

The idea didn't faze on me until much later in life. I dreaded writing in my journal. I dreaded the idea of my teacher reading what I was thinking, what I was feeling and what I feared the most. I thought I should be Superman. I believed that what I thought, felt, or feared was nobody damm business, but my own. When you're that young, you have to do whatcha gotta do to protect yourself from getting hurt, but I wasn't nobody, I was Superman. 

I don't know if I have that journal anymore. Maybe it up in my parent's attic with a thick layer of dust. Maybe I threw it away in the trash many years ago. Maybe my mother kept it in her secret collection like pieces of my younger brother gorgeous curly hair in a plastic bag for who knows how long. My mother drives me insane sometimes, like, with my brother gorgeous curly hair in a plastic bag. I did not know that had existed until I was fourteen. 

Apparently, as the story goes, when I was five and my younger brother was three we decided to play make-believe. I decided I was going to be one of the best barbers in he whole would and my brother was my favorite client. With crayons still speared all over my face and my favorite blue scissors in my hand, it ws time for the greatest haircut ever: the mohawk. While my brother picked his nose standing if front of the mirror, my hand worked its magic. 

Then my mother walked in. 

I can't remember if my mother screamed, freaked out or stood there in silence. All I remember was my mother saying my full name. When she says my full name, it means that I'm in the abyss of hell.