| Current mood: |  sleepy |
| Current music: | Delta Goodrem - Born To Try |
Green beans and tadpoles.
So, it seems I actually have a regular visitor to my journal. Only problem is, the notes are always anonymous... Well, hi to whoever it is that keeps coming back hehe.
Has anyone actually heard of that rumour going around that says there was this baby in Kuching or some such place and that minutes after it was born, it spoke, telling people to eat green bean soup to prevent against contracting SARS. It supposedly died soon after. It was being sent around by SMS, and I actually got one.
From what I hear and read in newspapers, people actually flock to buy these beans and make some kinda insipid soup. Needless to say, prices skyrocketed.
And if I'm not mistaken, the majority of the people here who believed that little blurb of idiocy are Chinese. Pathetic, isn't it? I dunno, I just have little tolerance for superstition and even less patience for the people who believe in them. I'm the kinda guy that'd sooner walk under a ladder just to prove a point, you know?
Superstitions... Bah! Pish-posh!!
*Shakes walking-stick*
Anyhoo, today in class we were talking about something, and the subject of age came up. I mentioned that I was 20, and I don't know why, but for the life of me, I suddenly felt old. I've been on this earth for 20 years... It sounds like such a long time. And by the time this year is over, I'll be 21... a legal adult. But I take pride in the fact that I'm a big kid. Heck, I profess to be 20 going on 16. And I enjoy it.
I remember the years that have passed, and how I've grown physically, mentally, and emotionally. It's come to a point where I realize that one significant character trait is my maturity.
Or lack thereof.
I remember the days when childhood meant running around in the yard exploring things you've never seen before... the days when moss and fungus and toadstools were oddities to examine endlessly... the days when staring at a puddle and prodding around in its mud was the ideal kind of fun. Of course, to have puddles, it'd have to rain, and God knows how fascinating rainstorms were. I could stand out on the balcony and stare for ages at the falling raindrops, how they'd sprint to the ground and splash into the concrete, or on the million blades of brilliantly green grass. And if the rainstorm was especially heavy, we'd get to see miniature rivers form, and watch the mini-rapids gush down the drains, flowing over stones and sticks and what have you. But the rain had to stop sometime.
And that's when the frogs came out.
Strange animals, frogs. At least, the ones where I lived were. They weren't the generic Discovery Channel kind that emit that deep low croaking. These went "Wok! Wok!" in a high-pitched sort of tone.
I kid you not.
Rainstorms brought fresh puddles and a new influx of frogs, which meant only one thing. Tadpoles. They were our makeshift pets that lived one day and died the next. I remember there was this large rain-jar in the backyard, that served no other purpose (that I could see) than to collect rainwater. It just sat there for years. Anyway, I recall one time seeing a whole sh!tload of tadpoles in that jar. Needless to say, having your own little plethora of frogspawn at the age of 10 was akin to striking gold.
Slimy, icky, gold with tails.
But I digress. My point is that most kids nowadays lack an active childhood. It may be an unfair generalization, but don't most kids spend more time indoors than out? Playstations, XBoxes, Gamecubes, PCs, Cable, Internet, DVDs, etc. Need I say more?
So now instead of growing up in sunshine, dirt and fresh air, and playing with helpless amphibians, we've been reduced to a virtual childhood where youths experience a virtual world filled with fantastical violence and sexual innuendo. No more tadpoles for kids. They've got something else. Something that won't get their hands dirty!
"Hey Tommy! Wanna come over and play with my Seaman?"
Oy vey.
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