favourite sounds

The sound of Jase snoring deeply outside in the late night
That chuckle when you were watching TV by yourself
"I'm home"
"I'm leaving for work now"
Janet's sweet kisses

Made a kite out of chopsticks, cellophane and tissue paper.

And playdough with flour and other sorts of ingredients.

It felt like the crusty hardness of sand but it looked like specks of sugar.

We dyed it red.

Growing up

I asked my students to write down three things that were associated with growing up.

Here's what they said in a nutshell:
- change in appearance
- change of interests and perspectives
- more responsibilities like homework..and more homework
- maturing
- more and less restrictions

Then I wondered to myself what growing up feels like. It feels you can do a lot of things, yet sometimes you can't. You know things have changed when you make to-do-lists which prioritise the home and the family more than anything else. When the filing cabinet is heavier with things that never used to concern you. When people ask how you are and what you have been up to and you can vaguely remember the last time you had time to relax. Just remember when everything around you is moving fast, step outside of the situation for a little moment and pretend you're not there, you're not that person, and you don't need to do those things. Breathe.

Friends

I'm sorry, what? You're going to wait up to tell me off?
Who are you to do that?
Yes, give myself some rules to follow by. That will truly define my character.
Let me tell you why it doesn't matter anymore.
I don't wake up with an empty mind anymore.
I don't think I ever have an empty mind.
Paperwork, real estate, do work, read, clean, plan work, teach, rest, bills, people's business and who pisses you off, email this person, call up this place, have you done it? What's the news? What's happening now? Where is this? Can you explain this to me?
Stop.
It never does.
They say letting it out will make you feel better.
But it doesn't anymore.
I go out to forget. Just for a little bit.
I come back feeling heavy. Suffocated.
The days go by fast.
The thoughts don't just come by. They come back. Again and again.
I go out for escape. To laugh about stupid shit. To smile at simple things. To talk to people who..just get me.
I'm sorry, we are too different.
I don't think you've even ever asked me.."how are you feeling?" Without expecting a "yes, I'm well. No I'm sick" "Yeah, kind of busy with uni and all."
That's all there is.
We will never talk about things in the same way. We will never understand and believe in the same things.
But I can. With them.
Without this escape, I don't think I would feel like...there is anything to look forward to..after all
I need my space. Away from it. Even just for a little.
People change. But why wait for them to change when you can hold onto what they are now? Make the most of it. Don't be cynical. Appreciate it. When it's time to move on and care about other things, I will.
I don't want to grow up too quickly.
But I have no choice.
So I'm holding onto whatever I have left to keep me sane.

Pages and pages of a's and b's in simple print.

Then a's, b's, and c's in little dotted forms.

"Space out your writing, people will judge you by the way you write"

"Hold your pencil like this so your hand won't get sore"

Remember to clock the door and have a nice day

The phone rings.

"You should come really quick. Something's happened."

We rush through the door, into the car and drove off. Parked the car, ran out and dashed into the room.

There wasn't a moment to think what could have happened.

There he was lying there, his mouth twitching. A lady was sitting beside him fixing something under the sheets.

We sat outside and waited in the guest room.

It was morning.

The curtains were opened, the sun shining through the crystal clear glass.

There was a wheelchair and he was sitting in it.

His thick fingers, a crisp white dress on top of him, his dark skin with barely a wrinkle in sight.

A weak, but warm smile spread across his lips.

"I told you I'd be okay."

Every night

There's just so much that hasn't been done and so much that hasn't been said.

If you care about someone, tell them.

If you want to go somewhere with someone, do it.

Time just disappears like a drop of water in the ocean.

And who's there to blame?

Year 2

Wide-eyed, curly haired, big, Spanish Mureno.

Feliz Navidad for Christmas at the front of assembly.

Making 3D models out of skewers and chewy, sugar-encrusted lollies.

David stealing other people's roll ups and getting caught for it.

Sitting on the floor a lot.

Dad making a diorama for me...about Christmas too I think. I didn't realise it was wrong to get your parent to do almost everything for you while you watch..

Hey Dad, I got this project and I gotta do this this and this.
Okay. I'll do it for you. 

It looked like snow with the bits of the foam floating around from all the cutting we(he) did.