when we were young
The change will do you good I always knew it would You know the change will do you good You know the change will do you good
Damaged goods, send them back I can’t work, I can’t achieve, send me back Open the till, give me the change You said, would do me good Refund the cost You said you’re cheap but you’re too much
Your kiss so sweet Your sweat so sour Sometimes I’m thinking that I love you But I know it’s only lust
there is a story about me that my mother loves to tell. she heard it from my babysitter. i guess mrs. iverson (my babysitter) was watching me play on a swing set while she was in the kitchen. i was wearing a ball cap and i was just loving the swing. i was about 4 years old or so. an older boy, 7 or 8 years old maybe walked by and went behind me and knocked the cap off my head.
i stopped the swing, got off, went over and picked up my cap, put it back on my head, and went back to swinging. the older boy repeated his action and then i repeated mine. this happened about 4 times total.
the older boy knocked the cap off my head again. i stopped the swing, got off, went over and picked up a plastic wiffle ball bat and hit the older kid in the head. he screamed, cried, and left our yard. i picked up my cap, put it back on my head and got back on the swing.
i imagine she loves to tell this story because it illustrates my nature. my nature which remains true to this day. i have patience. prolly a lot of it. but there is a point when patience runs out. and when it does, i quietly take action and then just as quietly go back to what i was doing.
i believe i am cresting this point in my life right now. i find myself directly in the middle of taking action to address the perturbance i have been enduring for some time now.
i find it fascinating that i am still the little boy craftily and succinctly swinging a wiffle ball bat to get someone to stop interfering with my simple enjoyment of the life i am leading. damn bullies. they seem to have always found their way to me.