So high school finished, for those who don't know.
(Yeah! Whoo! Congratulations! - I know)
These are the days my friends, these are the days. The whole world's opened up like a blooming flower. This is the moment, this is the pearl, this is that fine sunshine.
And so many of my friends are saying ...
they're bored.
The long-awaited triumphant romance sinks into stale tragedy.
Honestly, I don't understand it. I've no time to be bored. I've been too busy cleaning out my room - swish! swash! dust, drawers, ripe paper, into fire 'Whoosh!' Working through my life with a methodical severity, sorting it all into apathetic piles of 'to keep' or 'not to keep'. So much, and oh so much more to go. It seems I've measured my whole life out in lines of scribbled ink on cheap paper ... and off it goes
'Whoosh!'
Hah! you could almost imagine the life draining from me as it's all thrown away, turning slowly into some shriveled little thing with thin-yellowing skin, curled up in the corner like a scrunched ball of paper.
But don't worry, I've lost no blood. Good thing I'm more than the mark of pens - the magnificent cartoons I left in the margins of superb workbooks, accompanying perfectly all those wonderful words I wrote. Mellifluous! I should think so! See them blow away like farts on wind.
Could last 1 year maybe. Even 2 years. 100 years! Today. Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff.......
It's quite a relief, really. Like a good hot shower (with soap) after years in a hot dry dusty desert,
where there are no showers.
Purging through it all. Boiling it all down to the refined product; the gold, the simple things, what I really need. You know, sometimes (when I'm especially out of it) I think I really wouldn't mind if a great fire just came and ate up all my room - my bed, desk, books, clothes arranged all prettily out on a china plate - and to excrete back out at me nothing but smoke.
Just me, with nothing. Tossing it all aside like a smelly old cloak. Naked; like I came into the world, my soul held fresh in the bosom of God. Poor, pure, and simple, like a wee baby, waiting in trust for everything to be poured into it. Gaping at all the brand new world, as amazing as it always was. Before I grew stale.
Ah what a silly thought!
Yes, I daresay spring cleanings are very good, we people especially need them. Sweeping up the dust. Chasing out the rats. Keeping the air fresh and free. Finding all the secret things festering and moaning in the dark and bathing them in the light. We're like gardens that need a good weeding every so often, lest the rare and beautiful plants get choked and the whole think turns rank and poison.
Or, again, just like we need showers lest we grow smelly and positively repellent to any poor soul nearby. It is important to review, to examen, to reform, and others will surely appreciate the smell when we do.
Letting the fires burn off all the rubbish, the baggage, the chaff, finding gold purified in the heat.
