Thoughts In Summer.

As the years have aged me, like they have all others, I would like to assume I have aged gracefully.  Sitting without my sunglasses on the world before me, it is brighter than it twas in my youth. How do I know this?  Because I find myself squinting profusely in order to obtain some sort of comfortable observation.  Sigh...and as told by the wisest youth keepers, squinting causes wrinkles before their time.  I find some truth to this fortune telling, but I would like a more psychological reason, and that having being a happy, jovial outlook on life caused them. The days that have evolved, past and presently before me, have been or are in good measure of laughter. Somewhat.

Or another fashionable cause could be that I search farther than a hawk with my hazel eyes. Was I looking for something that I knew others would not, or could not?  Somthing that set me apart, that would make me truthfully different?  Maybe it was a new world that could be an absolute to my imagination.  Imagination my grandmother, and father fueled with their 'what if's'. Grand storytellers, the both of them, and quite frankly to this day I have no real interest in others, unless they can tell a good story.  Yes, at times I was a lonely child, but I was very independant and searched for things on my own.  Yet I didn't go very far.  I don't think I went far because I knew the radius I was existing in was big enough.  It was manageable.  It wasn't overwhelming, it was predictable, comfortable, and I trust myself in it.  I trusted I knew how to react if something out of the ordinary would arise.  Now my humble abode is within a larger means, and I discovered with grand disappointment, it is the people that overwhelm me, not the environment of trees, rivers, or tall buildings.

No wonder why I loved the countryside so much. My bike rides and art were my tranquility.  Here in the city, there is no true privacy. A place to call within me a spontanious jumping, dancing, or just saying something jibberish at the top of my lungs.  Funny, my son, has no problem doing these things, but he started in the city, and it's all he has known.

I don't get myself at times, this is what I asked for in my days sitting lonely up in a bedroom that had an equivillant to a princess trapped in a tower.  Dear Walt Disney, what happened to the Princess once she got what she dreamed of?  The Prince came and took her from the countryside, and put her in a new world of utter chaios.  How did she really end up coping?  Kicking out babies for the sake of a name to carry on for her beloved Prince. Maintaining her apperance like a pretty trophy from the Prince's 'hunt'.  Was love truely enough to subside what she once knew?  Was his love for her equal to what she loved of him, and what she gave up?

My soul ponders that daily, just as it did for freedom of the 'tower'.  I do know what to do with my freedom, but at times it's filled with mere responsibilities telling me what to do with my time of freedom.  Love slips in and out like sunrays through the leaves of a tree.  Glimmers shinning here and there as the wind pushes the leaves to dance and distort the love I felt and thought I saw. Sadly, I don't look up into trees much these days, especially when the sun is out.  With its' bright hydrogen glow, it will make me squint, thus inflicting scars of wrinkles, and my true age will come forth. Rippened too much for another's tempting for a taste of me.

Besides, if I really don't know what to do with my freedom, now that I have it, what will I know what to do with love?  Hide behind sunglasses?