my stepmum today found old books and photos and misc from a long, long time ago. 15 years or so. suddenly i'm looking at books that i remember, but haven't seen in at least 10 years. drawings from when i was in pre-primary, stories about princesses and sparkling lakes and huge castles, then the aforementioned princess getting shot and luckily she didn't die but she had to go to hospital and, i quote, "the bullet went in 1 centimetre." or acrostic poems that make little to no sense/sound like badly translated engrish. i think i can learn a lot about who i am at my purest from these drawings and writings. i can almost hear my own voice as a child.
i wonder, if bunny could talk, what he would have to say about me. about who i have grown to be.
and i see joshie and sofia and even toby & dylan, and i am so excited about the amazing humans they are/will be. i really hope i can be a good influence on them, get them thinking about the world in a way no one else in their life could. crazy aunty jussie.
...and a part of me is just so fucking eager, beyond even my own previous imaginings, to get out into it all. to travel, to plunge headfirst into cultures so vast and old and exciting and alive, to come back with a song in my heart and a glitter in my eye and to make my friends and family proud. and to give it back - to learn and teach and dance and cry and inspire and be inspired...
and i hope that, when i face the void again (which i know i will many times in this life), i will have the strength of heart & mind to be inspired by it, and not to deny/fear/run away from/try to control it. it makes me sad sometimes when i see people who have let it get the better of them. people perhaps i once loved, or still love, or have the potential to love. i hope those people see/think of me and smile.
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