Dying on the road, long distance memories

I remember travelling at a young age, it seemed magnificent to move at such a great speed to take us to wherever we were going. When we would be in the car for eight hours it never seemed bland, the thought of where’d i’d later be, and the thought of where I was right now was always a great passage of time. One fond memory was the car sickness. I grew up to be a fairly tall person, not huge, but tall enough, one of the many things that would come from this was my appetite, I remember just as I began growing properly I ate more than I had ever before. As I mentioned earlier car sickness would come with these travels, one particular moment was when just as I had finished eight banana’s, two oranges, and a tuna sandwich picked up at a gas station. I felt the urge to see my past meal, and in opening the car window, the side of my car would see it too. Our car looked good in that shade of orange-yellow. Car journeys weren’t forgettable.

In every car journey the sleeping aspect was always something worth mentioning before me and my family would leave the house with pillows, blankets, and whatever looked soft enough to shut me up for the next few hours. Although the soft yet firm feeling of the pillow would tempt my slumber, it seemed to be my own shoulder that would act as my guide into dreaming. It was a rare moment that I wouldn’t fall asleep in the car when I was young, after all, is there anything more entertaining than ones own dreams? Dreaming doesn’t come naturally to everybody, but when one does dream and remembers it, you must talk about it, unless it’s one that you detest for the sake of your own self-respect. But as I would fall asleep in the car I would always wonder how my parents would stay awake for as long as they did,

Looking out of the window was a forgettable experience that will always be remembered. As the car races past fields and rivers, I rarely would want to stop by and see them properly, yet I would always watch whatever we pass. Maybe it was the sheer boredom, maybe it was the fact that seeing a cow was interesting (growing up in a town after all).  But when the windows would come open I remember putting my head out the window and feeling the hard brisk air bounce itself off of my head, I could be anything I wanted to when my head was out of that window, although I wouldn’t be whoever I was for long due to the protest of my parents to put my head back in. When I said earlier that I often fell asleep often; one memory from my teens is that I was wearing sunglass and fell asleep, just as my mother and I pulled up next to a group of girls, I remember one putting her hand on my cheek in an attempt to take my sunglasses, it made my mother laugh watching her take them, she failed in taking them and I woke screaming then laughing at the look of the girl as she quickly retreated her hand.  Car journeys are an adventure in themselves, the memories couldn’t be forgotten even if we wanted to forget them.

 

Yours sincerely,

D.J Caller

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Regretful days, straight moments

Breaking off into your own chain of mistakes is a dread that comes at its own cost, when the night strikes after you’ve done everything, sometimes all you can do is wait it out. We make mistakes for the reason of trying, whatever it is that you were trying to do, you tried. If the event went sour and the clean mistake that happened broke everything, then the only thing left to do is go to the next day, we don’t know what the next day will be, but you know it’s there, and you can repeat yourself but this time succeed. I’m not writing this as a motivational speech, i’m writing this because mistakes get made, and to treat them as if they didn’t happen would be a shame.

If I were to ask you how many regrets you have, maybe you’d say you have none; that’s never true. The passion of repetition takes you for a reason, you can look it however you want, but if it’s not right the first time, you’d probably hope that it wasn’t like that. But many regrets are coincidental, when you can’t control what happens it sometimes makes things better. After all, if you have an understanding boss, that file you were supposed to mail last week, the one that got lost, can just make you more time. You might regret that you hadn’t sent it earlier, but all you can say to yourself is ‘Phew, it’s not my fault this time’.

Childhood is full of regrets, it’s the point of your life in which you can look back and laugh at the mistakes and errors of your first few chapters. The first few regrets that you create are the most simplistic and innocent ones, remember wearing that t shirt that says ‘Frankie says relax’? So do I, with childhood comes the moments that everything seems in line. And to make a mistake feels as if the entire world has broken over your shoulders. As we all get older we all realise what’s important and what’s not, the clock gave us the best perspective, it also some the worst judgement. When it comes to making regrets throughout adolescence, many will think of how they were rejected by that person that made them see everything else without them,others will think of how they weren’t nice enough to the kids that liked something else. But with every regret that is made, so is a new outlook, good or bad, it’s still another way to think.

 

Yours sincerely

D.J Caller

Summer Days

After writing my last post, I looked back and reflected to my life growing up, how I became who am, who i’ll be later on, and who i’ll meet tomorrow. This reminded me of the days of Summer where meeting your friends was the pinnacle of everything, school was over, life began. I remember meeting my friends at a small stream where we could cool down and live in the heat. With nothing but a small speaker and a towel everything seemed to be perfection, the only thing to stop us was the rain that guided us back to somebodies house, nothing could try and stop us.

Sumer seemed to be the time where spending time with everyone seemed essential, we were adamant to go home; taking the first steps home meant that the fun was over, if we could have stayed out forever we would have. But this didn’t mean that the Summer was perfect, learning seemed to follow us even after we had ditched school for the next 6 weeks. Arguing had become more common, as seeing everyone every day would teach us the annoying quirks of other people that we once appreciated, but now resented. By the end of the Summer’s school seemed almost wanted, although this quickly became a  regret around one week into school.

As Summer would end we would attempt to keep to the same patterns, in two degree weather we would stand at the same field and talk as if nothing was the problem. But we knew that the days would be over, this just meant that we would have to find someone’s house. But when we weren’t allowed in, the night’s cold would take us for all we were worth, the frost growing on our chins as the swings swung steadily through the chilly air.

Once spring rolled around, we treated it like Summer, it was Summer. Coats were out, and sunglasses had arrived once again, even if the clouds had overshadowed us. It was inevitable that Summer would come around, just as it was inevitable that it would end. But whatever the case the memories gave us something that we couldn’t find anywhere else. As the hot air beat on our necks whilst we ran across the fields shouting at one another insults,playing tricks with their conscience yet also making them laugh. Summer was a time, but everything else was a moment.

 

Yours sincerely

D.J Caller

Boredom

I’ve spent many days waiting for the clock to return back to twelve, the next day after all gives you new expectations. But boredom comes when you least expect it, wether you’re optimistic about the next day or not, it’s just another ‘sensation’ that reeks itself over you and drives you to do nothing, but expect yourself to do everything.

I’ve spent weeks where I’ve met the same people and done the same things, but why I ask myself do I continue doing it? Is it the feeling that I have to? Must I spend every minute with people that I might not know in ten years. I don’t have to. I know this. But being without somebody Is just as frustrating, after all when you’re bored with friends, at least you can be bored together. But growing up in a town boredom was a regular pattern to my lifestyle, there was nowhere for anyone to go, the movie theatre was the only place we ever spent much time in. But paying £7 Regularly was a struggle, we felt as if we were miners caught in a depression.

Money as you can guess was the other issue, boredom doesn’t come at a price, neither does happiness, although the ‘premium edition’ does. I remember us trying to scrape together bits of change in an attempt to buy a burger from McDonalds, (I personally didn’t want it, I just owed the guy). That was a single time though, we generally weren’t that bad. But as I said living in a town doing anything entertaining would cost a sizeable fee, at least to a teenager. And when you were caught in a world that made you want more, your bank account played the limit instead of ambitions; This wasn’t to say I wasn’t grateful, but in terms of entertainment money would be an issue.

But even on my most mundane day the sun would still shine, this did let us combat our tedious weekends, sometimes a ball would be the key to the best day of the month. If watching television with you’re friends gave you some form of amusement, then playing football on a field can be the greatest thing ever, the sun showering your soul as the only thing stopping your enjoyment is the moon. But even when that was the case moonlight can create the Summer night that you never forgot, as the night darkens and the heat goes down, you split back to your houses, only to return the next day to repeat it again.

Boredoms comes at no price, but sometimes the best things won’t need a price anyway.

Hope you enjoyed reading.

Yours sincerely,

D.J Caller.