Escaping Thoughts

Sometimes I read over my past postings, which is another good reason to blog. So you can read back on some of your old thoughts. Well I reread my last blog about legendary stories because some “college girl” =) at church said I was showing off and I wanted to see if I was being a little full of myself. I guess I was a little bit, but I normally am pretty full of myself. It’s my blog, I’m the star of it. =)

As I was reading I had a flashback to that fight in the 2nd grade. I was so young and small, imagining two little kids that age fist fighting was kind of comical yet disturbing. Little kids don’t normally punch other kids in the face, it’s not normal. It’s not very normal to hit others in general. When you really think about it, fights are very grotesque and very disturbing. Have you ever seen two grown men fight in the streets? It’s not pretty.

Anyway I digress. I thought about my mind set at that age. I remember the 2nd grade very clearly. I thought I was pretty grown up at that time. I had my first crush and my first heart break that year. I fell hard for this girl named Jennifer Dumag and when I asked her to be my girlfriend, she said no.

By the time I was in the 2nd grade I have already seen and experienced a lot. I’ve seen my father hit my mother too many times, I’ve been hit by my father many times, experienced my mother leaving my father. One day I came home from school and she wasn’t there. She took my sister and just left. I remember that day so well. I walked into my room and the room was bright red from the sun reflecting off of my red blanket. My mom (2nd mom) left me a coloring book and a pack of crayons on my desk.

That year was a very difficult one for me and my dad. I would wake up in the morning and he was already gone for work. I got ready and walked to school by myself. When I came home I would wait for him in our room coloring or watching tv. Then when he finally got home he would make us dinner. I remember eating a lot of melted cheese over rice.

That year was also the year I went to live with my white foster family. I remember my first day at my new school. The teacher sat me next to this black kid named Darren Baker and asked him to be my friend and show me around. We actually became best friends until the 5th grade when I moved again. I remember he cried when I left.

So by the time I was in the 2nd grade I’ve already experienced so much. That’s was probably the root of all the anger and lashing out. I actually got into 3 or 4 fights in the 2nd grade, even got sent home.

Anyway all of these thoughts poured into my head and I wanted to write them down before they escaped.