Part XVIII - Vantage Point

Your awareness has kept pace with your physical growth. Your head moves swiftly on a flexible neck that is supported by a stronger base. You can see through windows, through trees and clouds as your intellect has begun to formulate ideas of what all the fuss is about. Your consciousness and creativity dance within your mind drawing those new waltzes, tangos and other artistic paintings from the inspiration of your senses. You smile and laugh at everything, for it seems to be meant as an entertainment for your spirit. The way the door moves, the way the curtains draw and the way the blanket captures you under its playful reach. You can feel the difference between a warm bath and a cold breeze though you are not sure which is more stimulating.

You sit upon the sand as the spent waves roll to their demise on your legs and trunk while the gulls and other children lap at the moment like thirsty nomads at a desert spring. Again you notice how your laughter is contagious to all that come near, be them yours or others. When the wet puppy jumps on you and you fall backwards with its tongue lapping as your face forms that expression that tells all that you have been startled, you are picked up swiftly as laughter and cooing are blended into a oozing substance that lubricates the experience until your smile reappears quickly and your call to be lowered again is heard. Again you have conquered the first few volleys of fear but they will build in intensity.

You sit upon the sofa and watch yours watching moving images that make them react while you are held on pins and needles not sure when you will be frightened again. When you begin to cry, you are told that you are sleepy and there has been too much stimulation. It is quickly decided that bed time has come and soon you will be listening to notes circling in the darkened air once more after those rhythmic words are spoken again. You are left in this dream unable to understand the fictions in your mind. They seem so reminiscent of the day that you have spent, but it isn't from the perception that you had before, instead it seems to be above the encounter like some sort of vision that glistened below.

All of these days are like never before though they seem like moulded concepts that fall from the furnace fractured and splintered in different ways. Your reliable tandem, your consciousness and creativity colour every detail in a permanent way. You are beginning to become conservative in your attitudes about change. You know the pillow is not supposed to be there and the cat cannot lap at your custard anymore now that you know that its tale can be bent towards persuasion. The scratches you receive are harmless although the whole tribe feels the cat must not be allowed to infiltrate your territory but it is your friend and you cry loudly when it is sent outside for the crime of defending itself.

You are not entrusted with the knowledge that your life's needs and discomforts are being forged into you mental memories. You cannot understand that what are now tiny idiosyncrasies are going to evolve into tears into your personal beliefs of yourself. Time gives you plenty of space for you to corner yourself in a fashion of a hunted killer with the enormous need not to have to worry about what may be behind, be it someone or something that was once avoided. There are no hiding places in life but you are at the age where you rely on them, for you have found them in the dark, in the open, below your mother's breast and deep in your sleep. You know there is availability for that is the one thing you have plenty of.