So no more books for now.
I was at work at like...8:35. I spent nearly 15 minutes outside, along that little stream/forest thing at the side of the building. Just listening to the traffic go by, the wind...
I miss being a boy. I miss playing in the forest at night. I think it kept me sane, my playing. I don't know if it really did, but I know it was a happy time. I played basketball by myself at the playground, climbed trees, wandered through all the ditches and interesting stuff...used to curl up on the top of the baseball pitching net, even. It was like a hammock....
I miss being outside at night, in a forest. There's something about trees that make the air smell...just...so.
It's like another life, those experiences of mine. Another time, another person. Another me. I still want to be that boy, even as I forge ahead.
Maybe he and I can meet up in some forest again, at the top of a tree. Or maybe at the opening for a cave where the distant sound of water trickles to my ear.
And maybe when we do, all those childish dreams will be true.