What about 12?
Now 16?
21?
Now?
For some it stays the same. Forever. For some it changes over the years. For some, it alters contingent upon mood, age, fashion, etc.
When I was 6 it was purple. Anything purple. I had a purple Disney matching warm-up set that I wore all the time even though it was probably a little too tight for my stout build.
When I was 12 it was blue. I liked the way it made my eyes pop out, and made me look like less of a Tom-boy and more like a girl...If only I really knew--blue was not going to avert anyone's attention from the mess of a nest that I wore on top of my head and Samba shoes. I know, total babe.
When I was 16, I did not have a favorite color because I thought it was unfair to all of the other colors. Might I also add that I wore about 10 different bracelets on each arm, while sporting Vans shoes that were two sizes too large and I carried a JanSport backpack with a spot for a skateboard but had no skateboard. And I had changed my hair color from blonde to maroon. It was my own personal rebellion. I know, I really let myself walk over the edge with this one.
When I was 21, I tried to claim the same belief as when I was 16, but it was secretly yellow. I wanted to pretend I was still like I was when I was younger and that I did not really care and why does that really matter. But in all honesty, I just really liked yellow.
And now at 24 it is purple. Just color me irony.
I guess it's similar to the way that I feel about crossing large intersections. I wish I could say that I did not care, that it is not a big deal. But it gives me every kind of anxiety unless I have the "walk" sign or if the street is dead and there are no cars in sight. To me, that is comforting.
I used to run across them (the streets) without any hesitations. No fear in mind. As a child I practically lived on the street in front of my house...as far as I was concerned the cars were a second to how much time I spent and ran and played on that pavement...on those yellow lines.
And now these streets that used to be an adventure to me, hold no treasure any more. They went from purple to gray.
The girl with the red bandana in the black Jeep is no longer there. She sits at a cubicle and drives a Soul. 24 has never been so flattering. These are the seasons of seasoning. We get salt put on our wounds of experiences and pepper to flavor the dull parts---and then we hold hands with those dear to us, or we go alone. But every day we cross the street. Even if your favorite color is still the same, the lights on the street will not stay red forever.
-S
I used to run across them (the streets) without any hesitations. No fear in mind. As a child I practically lived on the street in front of my house...as far as I was concerned the cars were a second to how much time I spent and ran and played on that pavement...on those yellow lines.
And now these streets that used to be an adventure to me, hold no treasure any more. They went from purple to gray.
The girl with the red bandana in the black Jeep is no longer there. She sits at a cubicle and drives a Soul. 24 has never been so flattering. These are the seasons of seasoning. We get salt put on our wounds of experiences and pepper to flavor the dull parts---and then we hold hands with those dear to us, or we go alone. But every day we cross the street. Even if your favorite color is still the same, the lights on the street will not stay red forever.
-S
