Who Do I Think I Am??

This one's about treasure.

THE PROMPT: "Do you have any such thing back from childhood which inspires you to do something new every time you look at it? Tell me about that special treasure in an entry titled: "Cherished Treasure". -from Humming Bird

Good afternoon everyone! Before I even attempt to address today's interesting prompt, I just wanna stop for a minute and say thanks to everyone out there who's fought to build and defend the greatest country in the world. Without you, we'd be speaking French and driving on the other side of the road. To all the people who've ever donned a uniform for our armed forces, peace and thanks.

Now, on to today's entry.

As sad as it is, outside of a few pictures I swiped from my younger days, when I left home at 17 I took very little with me from the past. Still, I have the genetics. I have the memories and the scars. I have my earliest poems, which nowadays are just what they are: typical teenage poetry. Reading them now doesn't serve to inspire so much as being a barometer for how far I've come working with the written word.

I have writing projects that I started when I was younger, but never seemed to finish them. I'd get off to a fast start and then lose interest. I couldn't tell you anymore of their whereabouts, only because I still do happen upon them occasionally but then they get left and forgotten someplace different until the next time I find them. They're almost screenplays in a way, because I envision them to be semi-biographical novels made to be adapted into movies. I could see the scenes in my head when I was writing them, because even though they were intended to be fiction, they were based on events from my life.

There are at least two of these unfinished projects that I speak of. One I started right after high school. It centered around our summer, and was probably intended as a way of saying goodbye to our youth and innocence. I had known my best friend since the second grade, and after that summer he was going to college out of state. We spent a lot of that summer travelling to area parks, playing basketball and talking. We went out the night before he left, and it was bittersweet. I still had a lot of figuring out to do with my life; he had a plan and was about to execute it. As he turned the corner toward my street to drop me off, we fell silent. This was our goodbye. I didn't want to look, but something made me. The streetlights illuminated his face, and there was a single tear running down his cheek. As we rounded the block and stopped in front of my house, we were both crying messes. Two 18-year-olds, who knew each other two-thirds of their life, hugging and crying.

The second was meant to be a novel in poetic form. Each chapter would be a poem in any given style, structured or free verse. Tones could change, but keep the story fluid. Again, a work of fiction loosely based around my personal experiences. This time about a girl I'd dated and wanted to reconnect with, reimaging our lives as if we never parted ways. I would also tie in experiences I'd had with my best friend after high school. He's always wanted to write a book about his life and his philosophies, and I was going to do it for him. When I was living at 542, I even set up the spare room to be a place where we would write his story, but we never fully took advantage of it. Life is what happens when you're not sitting around, writing about your life.

Will I ever revisit these projects? Hard to say. What will be more likely? I'll die, and hopefully all of my works will fall into the proper hands. Then maybe I'll receive the due for my writings that I've been hiding from for so long. It's funny; I just remembered I started a project here on WDC about five years ago. Ten years ago I wrote an entire notebook of poetry that I became so enamored with. It really was the first collection that I was satisfied with from front to back. I had intended to post it in its completed form on WDC. I started it and got maybe halfway through. It had received a lot of positive feedback at the time, but I stalled and forgot about it after awhile. That is one project I'll definitely finish in the next few months, now that I've remembered it...as long as I can find the notebook. If you're interested, it's right here... "Cabin Fever" . Please check it out if you'd like. I recommend starting from post #1, rather than the most recent. Thanks in advance if you do.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Upon seeing "treasure" in the prompt, I heard this in my head and giggled. Hot lyrics and beats by the masters.

VITAL STATS:

Took a break after that jam (R.I.P. MCA, the master of the 3rd verse vocal beatdown) and was promptly divebombed by a butterfly on my patio. Don't know how I feel about that. Meanwhile, the bird (looks like a robin) that built a nest on the motion light on our garage was actually standing on top of the nest, rather than just sitting in it and looking like a dead bird. I've never seen this bird move, until now when I walked past it and it flew out in the other direction. I presume he was chasing the butterfly, in an effort to protect me.

That's all for today. Still gotta catch up on the happenings here in the world of blogs. Peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!