I Cleant (<-- is that a word?) my room, (my mom was making everyone throw stuff away that we're not using anymore...which kinda annoyed me...)
good thing I found interesting things in my closet and such:
old story i'd written in 7th grade "my brand new home": it was about me (well not me but a character, who was essentially me. I didn't give the character a name which make me even more conclude that it was supposed to represent me). and the character moves to a city called burbank and is scared about moving to a new place basically (he has dreams where everyone in burbank are monsters, idk). it was kool to just read a story I had written, no matter the blatant grammatical errors and weird writing.
It just got me thinking (here's the teacher in me analzying the student) about myself. Like why would I write a story like this, like certain parts were defintely me, but other's weren't, was that what I wanted to be. i'm not really sure. Junior high is all a blur I guess....
Bop it extreme, remote possibilities: it's like looking at an old picture. these game brought up memories of just fun with my family. And how I have so many games i don't play with anymore.
box of cards called history of america: bascially it like a box of cards (duh). with different topics about American history. It Ranges from wars, entertainment, people, places. And I think this was just example of how I wanted to learn things at a young age. It also shows why I know so much random stuff day. I know It's not a total miracle that I'm a genius (so people say). Like there was things that defintely propelled me.
As you can see, finding this things in my closet & elsewhere, just got me thinking about my childhood (and how freaking old I am!). I mean I had a good one, and I'm thankful for it.
yeha......memories......
PEACE & CHICKEN GREASE!!
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