A Throwback To The Children We Once Were
When I was a kid, I showed an interest in writing, and my parents were delighted by my childish stories and penchant for fantasies. Slowly, the “more important aspects of school” began to take over my life, and I got so lost in the chemical symbols of different elements and the trajectory of projectiles that I forgot the island nation where my warrior self resided and the ferocious tiger that was my companion. The short stories of defeating the treacherous monsters of the bog were replaced by learning about the different enzymes in the digestive tract, and the daydreams of finding a portal to other galaxies were left behind in favor of memorizing the dates of all major wars in history. Even English, the subject, provided no reprieve. So caught up in the perfection of the answers in return for marks were we that imagination had taken a big step back, even in the most imaginative of subjects.
Recently, I found myself with some free time. At a loss for how exactly to spend this abundance of time I suddenly had on my hands, I turned to the trusty old internet to help me find a hobby. Sad, right? Well, as imaginative as I once was, I find myself just as unimaginative now. Among the many suggestions, ranging from pottery to bookbinding and video editing to coding, I found a few articles about “blogging.” At first, I disregarded the idea, at a loss for what to write and utterly convinced I could never interest an audience. But then my mother told me something that I think is the very reason I am making this blog. She said, “Tusi, you don’t have to write for an audience. You can write for yourself. Take it as a… throwback. A throwback to the child you once were. The child who filled journals with handwritten stories.”
So, here I am, writing short stories and even shorter observations about what I see, hear, and feel. Well, excluding this blog, seeing as how what was supposed to be a short introduction has turned into me rambling about myself.
Anyways, I hope at least a few of you enjoy these amateurish pieces inspired by everything and nothing. If not, I hope at least the child I once was finds peace in these (web)pages.
Here’s to a new journey inspired by an old one. Here’s to the children we all once were.