when i was a child, my grandpa told me that if i ate watermelon seeds then i would grow watermelons out of my ears. i avoided watermelon seeds very proficiently. but one time i purposely swallowed a speed, and i drank extra water and stayed outside in the sun, to make sure my growing watermelon would get what it needed. and i truly believed that it would grow and i would have a garden inside of me. this seems very logical to me. there was something exciting about believing that. i always told my mom that when i "grew up" i would be an astronaut. and i truly believed it. i would get books from our library on stars and rockets. i would read them before i went to bed, and i would pray that i would dream about living in space. it almost seems like after my childhood dreams about flying to the moon, i have always been eager to stare the moon down. when i moved to my new neighborhood, i created my own.. world. i would spend hours drawing out each creature and i would write books about all the different powers each creature possessed. i would sit in my back yard, talking to them, warning them of the evil that would soon come to pass. and i believed they were real. and that i needed them to survive. ever since i was seven i believed that i will die of cancer, because my dad had a cassette tape with song in which the girl's name was sarah, and she had cancer, and she was bald. my dad would sing it me every time we were in his car. i still believe this. and i plan on this, i don't want it. but i believe it. i believed in farries. and i would search for them, during the night. and i would look for them when the seasons changed, and when i thought i saw peter pan. (some nights i would wait for peter, and his shadow. but obviously he never came. i concluded it was because my name is sarah. and not wendy.) i wouldn't listen to anyone who told me that monsters weren't real. i enjoyed my nightly ritual were i would walk to the light switch, flip it off, and run to my bed. because i always thought that maybe the monsters weren't really all that vicious. kind of like in the book, "where the wild things are." i wanted a wild thing to live under my bed. and after watching the Berenstain Bears for years, i decided i too will live in a tree house, and probably have a dog named dog. or even have a sister named sister.
the quaint little dreams of children are what i wish i own. being able to believe what ever you want, and there was no logic, or rules of gravity. or evolution. (i've always had something against gravity. i just don't appreciate how it holds me down. how i can't go to the moon.) my innocent childhood dreams still linger from time to time. they occasionally whisper secrets in my ear. or nightmares. but i have grown up. i have met the bitter world, and im familiar with it. i have been introduced to gravity,cruse you gravity, and photosynthesis. i have been acquainted with the chemical bonds of this and that, and i know why hair grows. and sometimes, i wish was straight up oblivious to everything. and all i had was a dictionary and imagination. and we would create what ever we needed. and that's how we would live. but thanks to age, and maturity, people think they have some silly little right to tell me santa doesn't actually exist. and that the chances of me becoming an astronaut are extremely slim. and that dogs will never talk. sometimes i just want to walk with my hands cupped to my ears, to make sure i don't hear any more disappointments. can't i just live with my fantasies? but that's not realistic. but sometimes when im outside, i think about my watermelon, growing inside of me. and it makes me smile. because, you know, there is probably really a watermelon in there. just a little one though.
