I remember...

An anonymous person once said, "The man with a clear conscience probably has a poor memory." What the quote is referring to is how every person who can remember, remembers a time in the past where they did something wrong. I, too, am a victim of regret. Every now and then, I sit back to think about what I have done wrong which I could have fixed. I sometimes think of how stupid I am for what I did. Yet, when I sit down to write a blog, I can't think of a darn thing that I remember. So I start with the cliché  'childhood' start. Trust me, it is about as cliché as Brad Stanton using the word cliché. 

I grew up, for what felt like the longest time, as a little kid on the block. I was always younger, smaller, but wiser than others. Does this hold true today? Maybe 2 of the 3 do, but I can't help being tall. In school, I started out at a private Catholic school. I made the switch to my current public school, which was a little different. I tried so hard to barely remember the names of the kids in the class. There was only one certain kid whose name I could recall. I guess that's how we became friends. The funny thing is, to this day, he gets in trouble on a daily bases and smokes cigarettes under age. I'm glad I stopped being friends with him.

One of the most random things I remember that I did when I was in the younger years of education was when one of my teachers asks the class how penguins waddle. I volunteered (I still don't know why) and did the penguin walk all the way around the classroom with the whole class watching me. It must of been so embarrassing because I remember it to this day. At recess the same day, I fell face first on the sidewalk and got laughed at. The day was just terrible, so when I got home, I didn't feel good at all. 

I saw the cookies on the kitchen counter. I thought they would cheer me up, but nothing could after that laughing matter. I was glad I was safely in my home, without anybody to see me. I sat on the bar stool, staring down at my glass of milk with a little bit of those soggy pieces of cookie that got left in the milk. I could see my face in the reflection of the stilled liquid. I began to think deeply. I thought so deeply, no other 7 year old thought that deeply. It seemed like I was contemplating philosophy. Even though it was just about the stupid things I had done and how it made me look. I never let that down, I knew I wouldn't. I was so self-conscious. I thought about how everybody would look at me the next, even though they probably won't remember it. 

Then, I started crying. Thinking about what had just happened. I tried to pick up the pieces. I just couldn't bring myself to it. I was a wreck. I had made such a mess. It didn't feel right. I didn't want anyone to help me. I knew, don't cry over spilled milk. But that's exactly what I did. My mom came in and yelled, "Why did you pour milk all over my counters!?"

"Sorry Mom, I had just bumped the cup."

Paranormal

One of the weirdest things to think about is the "other side". Whether you believe in it or not, this fifth dimension is a place that a lot of people think exists. No one really knows if there have ever been any real signs of ghosts or spirits. Only the people who do it for money say that they have the evidence. We don't even know if the government has information on this, because not even Wikileaks has tapped into this. Some scary things haunt us about ghosts though. We all think we've heard or seen something happen, but do we really know if it's just a figure of our imagination or not? Will we ever really know? Time can only tell, until something so obvious happens, yet people will still consider it fake.