My inner child still celebrates and fondly remembers this day.
This reminds me of a storie I wrote on Cowbird and being a child.
Where the Wild Things Are
Also known as childhood.
Sometimes I miss being a child. I know, “don´t we all?”
But what I miss the most about mine is that feeling I got when I thought that behind a door could very possibly be a monster.
I was also always suspicious that whenever I left my room and closed the door behind me, my dolls would communicate with eachother. Not necessarily talk, but I was certain that they winked as a special code that only they understood. At night they would whisper their secrets while I slept.
What now seems silly, made perfect sense back then. I miss these little things.
I love this photo. I think it sums up my childhood perfectly. I loved climbing trees with my friend Mariana (left on the photo).
2 Comments
Analog Girl
02/06/2014 at 9:04 AMTu estás igual! És daquelas pessoas que não muda muito desde a infância (eu também!) 🙂
E essa coisa de imaginar monstros e que os brinquedos comunicavam uns com os outros… eu também fazia isso! Há coisas que são tão iguais em todos nós… 🙂
joan of july
02/06/2014 at 11:38 PMHehehe… Achas? Fico muito feliz se ainda conservo alguns dos meus traços de criança. Adoro olhar para fotos antigas e ainda reconhecer-me. 😀
É verdade, Joana. Penso que todas as crianças faziam isso. Nada mais normal e saudável. É sinal de éramos felizes e inocentes como as crianças devem ser. :)*