fire
listening to:
mood:
2001-08-10 - 3:10 p.m.
okay, here comes the entry that has childhood reflection...Like most kids, somewhere between 7 and 9 years old, I was fascinated by fire. Not just fire, but matches-- the simple act of lighting matches and watching them burn out. On occasion, when there was a pack to spare, lighting the whole pack of matches and watching each match ignite was the highlight of an entire week. This of course leads to burning paper, leaves, plastic straws or whatever else I could get my hands on that no one would miss. Lighting matches in the backyard had me spellbound.
Now, as we all know, kids playing with matches is a big NO-NO. This is clear. At school they would tell you not to play with fire and in the home, your Mom and Dad would tell you that playing with fire is dangerous and 'kids are not allowed.'
These two ingredients of being spellbound and being forbidden to do so, made lighting matches a "dirty little secret" that was all mine. I don't think I told anyone about it, and I definitely did not invite friends over to have match lighting parties.
So now... Yes. Probably like most kids who play with fire, i got burned. One day I was lighting a match, and instead of holding the cover firmly over the striking strip, I held the match under my thumb and pulled for ignition (ironically, my dad taught me how to light a match this particular way). Well it lit. and so did my thumb. The sulfur stuck to my skin and burned a hole. There was a lesson learned.
About 2 months later I found myself very bored in the afternoon after a half day of school. No one was home and i saw a pack of matches in the kitchen. With intention, I grabbed them. (side note: when you are bored, try to do something creative rather than something you do out of boredom.) Suddenly, I felt like being sneaky and defiant.
I went upstairs and crawled out the window onto the roof and proceeded to light one match after another, enjoying the adrenaline or whatever natural drugs your body releases when you are excited...or getting away with something that's forbidden.
(im getting there... patience)
Unexpectedly, I heard my father's voice from inside the window I had crawled out of. I thought to myself, "OH NO! CAUGHT!" I thought nothing could be worse than (of course in hindsight...you know) being on the roof of your house, playing with fire, caught by your dad... not even your mom, but your dad!
You can only imagine what happened next. My father had never hit me while growing up. He hit me that day.
Okay... Point being:
1) You are enamored with something
2) You know you can't have it
3) You secretly take it or do it anyway
4) You get burned
5) You go back for more
6) You get burned again.
Have you learned your lesson?
Do you think I still play with fire?
Of course I do.
previous / next