...of trampolines and strawberry swings

July 31st 2010

4:44am. 

I'm still here, wide awake, running through the endless tracks of my mind. My pencil is still anchored between my teeth waiting for either sleep or inspiration to come. However, at my current level of alertness and at this pseudo-ungodly time, it would seem more to my satisfaction that the sandman come first before that bright flash of clarity. After all, tomorrow would always come- maybe not to everyone, but it always will for the rest of the world.

Crap.

Note to self, coffee after you wake up; not before you go to sleep.

By the way, name's Tristan, and as of this date, seeing that I have already consumed tons and tons of precious paper, I have decided to move all my writing and mind-blabber online. This way my wrists can finally rest and my teeth can stop fixating on a pencil for a while. Besides, I realized that some of my writings have either served as mere scratch papers, or coffee mug coasters (waste of mind juice, I know)

About the title of my blog...

Remember that song from Coldplay?

They were sitting
They were sitting in the strawberry swing
Every moment was so precious

They were sitting
They were talking in the strawberry swing
Everybody was for fighting
Wouldn't wanna waste a thing

Cold, cold water
Bring me round
Now my feet won't touch the ground
Cold, cold water
What ya say?
It's such
It's such a perfect day
It's such a perfect day

I grew up looking forward to playing on our backyard swing and have always been jealous of American kids on TV playing on trampolines. What if I had both? would that rush of blood to the head intensify? would that sense of bliss and altitude accumulate? I have always been aroused by the thought of swinging hard on my swing and superman-diving right on that imaginary trampoline in front of me.

One day I did jump of that swing. Smiling in happiness, my mind still having visions of the trampoline that never was... What happened after...a rush of blood to the head?.... well... you could say that.

We will always be children in our fantasies. Wishing for better days, holding on and swinging back and forth through tangled memories hoping to find something good to give us a temporary sense of bliss. However, we may choose to keep in mind that if we swing too much, we could ultimately loose grip. Trampolines are not made to catch you, they just bounce you right off - to whichever spot of ground your face is willing to plant itself on to.

Am i making sense? I feel the sandman coming. Well, what I'm trying to say is that strawberry swings and trampolines pretty much represents how I write. What do I mean? 

Well, keep on reading.

Not now though, i need to count me some sheep first.