The View From Up Here

moon picture source

I'm going to the moon.

Let me be clear:

I plan on stepping foot on the moon in my lifetime. I know that sounds crazy, but it's going to happen. This is my dream, my passion. I am going to be in space one day.

On day I'll place my foot on the dusty surface of the moon, hop around in the atmosphere, and wander around the terrain. I'm going to explore the craters carved out by angry meteors, enjoy the view of Earth from my perch, and revel in the vast expanse of space itself. I'll walk over the whole surface, map out each square inch. I'll set up a moon town, made of moon rocks, and visit each shop. Gotta support local businesses.

I want so badly to be up past the clouds, past the life giving atmosphere down on Earth. I want to break through the barrier of this planet, and journey farther than my relatives ever have. How amazing would my stories be, if I go to the moon? I could captivate children of the future with my moon adventures. How their eyes would widen in awe and amazement. To be up on the moon, they would get the craving to venture up there one day too. They would ask me many questions regarding my adventures. Like how my town is doing, what my moon home looks like. How they can also go to the moon, one day.

But I'm not going to the moon to impress anyone.

I don't need to tell stories of my grand adventures to anyone. I just want to go there to feel it. To have the experience of weightlessness, and absolute silence. To see what the stars look like from a different vantage point. Will I still be able to see Orion's belt all the way up here on the moon? Do shooting stars whiz closer? Can I still wish upon one?

Once I get to the moon, my trip won't be a short one. No, I'm going to camp here for a long while. I'll have my little space pod set up on the best plot of moon land. I'll have a view that will capture my attention for hours, gazing lovingly outside my space pod's windows. I'll build a city, with tall buildings that reach towards the black sky above. I'll take my moon car on road trips, and stay in moon hotels and eat at moon diners. I'll even cut down my own moon Christmas tree from the moon tree lot, and haul it back to my space pod for decorating.

But eventually, I might miss the sunsets back here on Earth. And the sweet smelling flowers, and the calming ocean breeze. I might miss the people too, and the animals. And maybe TV...

I'm going to the moon. I will walk on its surface, dance in it's atmosphere, and collect a few rock souvenirs. But don't worry, I'll come back, eventually.

Or maybe I'll just keep going farther out into space...Mars anyone?


xoHM

Story 23 // Born An Adult

I was never great at being a kid.

Maybe it was my only child upbringing, or the fact that I never had any cousins. I was constantly around adults at family gatherings, so talking about the latest Hey Arnold! episode would never work. I had to refine my tastes, soak up some culture. I strived to be as poised as ever to show my maturity. I may not have had any wrinkles yet, but I made sure to scrunch my face up every night to speed up the process.

When I was very young I went to private school. They loved my grown up attitude, and nurtured it. I felt like I had finally found my grove by 2nd grade, when I purchased my first adult book bag for class with my birthday money. It was a high point that I will always cherish.

By 4th grade, my parents divorced, and forced me to switch to public school. It was a terrible transition, well, along with the divorce obviously. Public school was not regarded highly in my group of adult stuffed animals that I met with each week to discuss foreign policy, among other relevant worldly topics. So imagine my embarrassment breaking the news to them. Yes, I did cry afterwards.

I still wanted to wear office clothes to class, carry a brief case instead of a backpack, and walk around in business heels, like I had done everyday in private school. This, to my dismay, was not accepted at public school. All my classmates thought that was weird. After all, I was still in Jr. High. But that didn't mean I should be forced to wear surf brand t-shirts with weird logos on them or worse, SKORTS! Ugh...

So I played the part. I dressed down, threw on some jean capris instead of a pencil skirt. I wore those jelly bracelets that were all the rage in the late 90s. It pained me to hide my true identity, but thats what you have to do to fit in, right? That's what every person wants, to be accepted some how.

I got through middle school hiding my adult tendencies. I only read non-fiction novels at night, never carrying them around in my book bag. I watched 60 minutes secretly from the hallway to our living room. I never talked about how much I envied Lesly Stahl's amazing journalism either. I was living a secret life, and I was okay with that, until it all got to a breaking point.

When I turned 18 I decided, enough was enough, I can't live like this anymore! I had to live my secret life in the open. It needed fresh air, deprived for so long in the dark. Locked away for my eyes only. But not anymore. At 18, I was legally recognized as an adult. It was the happiest moment of my life! I registered to vote that same day, crossing my fingers I would get jury duty. I got as many collared shirts and slacks as my part time income allowed. It was so nice to be accepted as the adult I had always been, my true self.

Now, whenever I hear a friend mention how much they wish they could go back to childhood, to those innocent days of playing with toys and stomping in muddy puddles, I cringe. Those days never belonged to me, my soul belongs in this stage in my life. I love doing taxes, paying for insurance, and furthering my career with night school. If this doesn't make sense to you, it's because you were a kid once. You embraced that experience. But if you can relate to me, even just a little bit, you were born to be an adult. Welcome to the best time of your life.




*While this is a fictional story, some elements are true to my life. I really do love Lesly Stahl, she's way rad. Also, this story has a subliminal analogy, did you pick up on it? 

Story // 4 THE WALL

I can't believe I missed my first deadline, whoops! It's been a rough week but it's Saturday now so life is good. Also I'm including the last three stories in my 52 count, didn't want to leave those out in the cold. Hope you enjoy this one!

"Well I definitely don't miss PE" said Ally. Her arms were shaking, making it harder each time she reached for a higher ledge. Her necklace was twisting in the breeze, softly knocking against the jagged stone wall she was scaling.

"Sorry it didn't seem this high before," said Lindsay, huffing below Ally. She stopped to catch her breath and look down. She squinted in the sun as it cast it's rays on the two ladies. The wall was warm but the wind had a bitter sting to it, as if Winter were mad Spring was moving in. 

Ally touched the top of the wall and pulled herself up as if she was getting out of a pool. She saddled it and looked out into the landscape. 

"What do you see? Is it like the books?" Lindsay said, cupping her hand around her mouth to help her voice travel. Ally didn't respond. Lindsay finally reached the top and wrapped her arms on the wall, wedging her toes into some conveniently located holes in the crumbling grout. 

It was a wasteland, covered in weeds and trash. At first it looked as if there were only piles of trash but after looking closer the trash covered every inch of the ground, the weeds were growing up out of it. Some were thriving, others would soon wither as the day passed, not living to see another sunrise. The piles of trash were haphazard, being formed carelessly by the wind. 

The fountain looked like it would fall apart if the breeze picked up just a little. There was garbage all around and inside it, the water was moldy and dark green. Plants were reaching into it as if getting food from the Sizzler buffet, knowing they would regret their choice of food a few hours later. There were two tiers to it, with the top one missing completely. The post of what it was remained, like a naked flag pole. 

Then there was some rustling sound coming from the right of the field. 

"What's that's?" Lindsay said, a little jumpy. 

"Squirrels maybe?" replied Ally, not sure herself. 

"Oh my God..." Lindsay held up her hand to her mouth. There was what looked like a very decayed head, biting at the trash closest to its mouth. Gender was impossible to decipher. One of the eyes was out of its socket, bouncing around the cheekbone. Then an arm started to show under a moldy cardboard box, slowly waving around as if it was trying not to sink. Were those even connected?

"This is gross," Lindsay said, slightly gagging. "I don't see a road anywhere either. I think it's buried". 

"Well, now what?" asked Ally, giving her a slightly annoyed look.