:: Monday, February 02, 2004 ::

Dissillusion.

The other day I was walking down my street, headphones on, enjoying the sun. I saw a father come towards me with two daughters, one still baby-fat in a stroller, and one confidently tottering along beside him. She stopped at a recycling box that was full of bright paper and cried "presents!" But her father was quick to correct her, "no, those aren't presents, that's garbage."

For some reason this made me very sad. Why do we teach our children reality so early? Why did he need to teach her that what was in that box was worthless? Don't we say "it's the thought that counts" when we speak of presents anyway? It was just so... I don't know. She was so excited about this small, beautiful thing, and he told her it was "garbage."

There is this house down our street. When we first moved here almost a year ago it was an empty lot. We have watched it grow, from the laying of the foundation in the spring, to the erection of a two by four skeleton in the hot summer sun, to the adding of shingles and stained glass over the holidays. They are finishing it now... the portapotty has been removed from our block, the driveway is bricked, the painting is done. And yesterday they put up a "For Sale" sign.

And again, for some reason this made me very sad. I think perhaps I romanticized it, remembering what it was like building our own house all those years, knowing that my parents were creating their own dream home. I always wondered who was building this house... how many kids they had, or were planning to have... how many spare rooms they needed for friends or siblings or grandchildren... if they picked the colour of the tiles in the bathroom with as much care as my parents had. But now I know they were just building it to sell it. A good investment, to turn a buck. And that's fine, I guess. It will be someone's dream home, someday. But it was just... sad.

It seems the older we get, the more impractical it becomes to dream.

Today I recieved a gift that I wasn't expecting. A gift I might talk about in more detail later. An overwhelmingly large gift. And the most frustrating part is that I cannot express my gratitude. But it has given me some freedom, some breathing room, and reminded me that my own dreams aren't as far away as I sometimes think they are. So, since I can't thank the giver, I'll just put a big "thank you" out into the world instead. Accept this, faithful readers, not as corny or sappy or silly. Don't squirm in your seat. Chase your dreams. Appreciate the beauty of a garbage can. Construct your own reality from the foundation up.


~song~ Ladysmith Black Mambazo - Inkanyezi Nezazi

:: Katy 10:11 p.m. [+] :: ::