Hmm, was that an abrupt and random way to end the last entry? It seemed long enough, and I have bit of the ADD. Might have something to do with my AGHD, or maybe just all the pot my parents smoked around the time I was born. Who knows.
Anyhow, so we moved from that apartment on Henry St, when I was still just a few years old. Still, I have lots of memories there, of things like getting covered with ants, who didn't like me sticking twigs into their anthill. An early morning, being jolted awake by the yelling of my dad, when he dropped a brick on his toe. The day I got home from Jowonio hippie preschool, just as my dad was digging a grave for our dog, Happy. I remember knowing what had happened immediately, since she'd been at the Vet a lot lately. I remember being so upset, I dropped my cup of popcorn, spilling it all over the gravel at the side of the road. I still almost tear up, to this day, thinking of that moment.
It seems amazing to me, how much I still remember from so long ago. How much it still effects me. It feels as though that doesn't quite add up, with how we normally think of the human mind. How much emphasis we put in the present. If time is just another dimension of space, and it's all just as real, at any point, past, present, or even future.. maybe, as mere three dimensionally situated beings, we've developed this instinct to overemphasize the significance of the present moment. That view would certainly help with prioritizing growth and survival, whereas a little too much awareness of the grand scheme of things, maybe not so much.
I guess we only lived in that place for a year or two, before getting a loan to buy a quaint little ghetto house, where we settled down, and stayed for most of my childhood, where I pondered the infinite size of the universe, and how that must logically imply that somewhere out there, there was someone else exactly like me, thinking exactly the same thing. Times infinity.
I was so naïve.