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Child of the past, Child of the present!

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posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 06:01 AM
Hi all,

OK... First, my disclaimer... I have had some people criticise me in the past for my lack of writing skills...

To be honest my spelling is terrible and, quite frankly, i have a poor grasp of writing skills.

So i ask you to be kind and consider this not as my attempt at a literature master piece... but simply words from my heart.

I hope you enjoy...

Child of the past

I am a toddler...

I am 2 years old... Everything is an adventure... everything is new and wondrous...

In the morning, I like to run through the grass while mother tends to the campfire, which has been reduced to embers by the cold of night... I like the spongy feeling of the grass under my bare feet... i like how the morning dew squelches between my toes. I pick some leaves off of a nearby tree, whose branches are hanging low enough for me to reach... I sit in the grass and start tearing the leaves... i like to separate the leaf from the veins and midrib... i don’t know why, it just fascinates me, something which at first glance is so simple is actually quite intricate. I want to show mother... i grab a handful of leaves and run towards her.... she see me coming and smiles... I throw the leaves at her but a gust of wind blows them back at me... We both laugh.

I am a child... I am 7 years old...

I like to follow father around the village... i sit and watch as he makes arrows over a fire with his friends and speaks of the great hunters of the past. Every now and then father looks over and smiles. After a while I get bored and look for my friend... i find him by the river and we start to play... We find two sticks and pretend they are our bows. We like to creep through the woods and be as quite as possible... and sometime we like to run down the hill and be as loud as we can.

I am a young teenager...

I am about to go hunting with my father for the first time.... mother made a fuss of me in the morning.... she is excited and worried... she made me a special breakfast of my favourite things and kept giving me random hugs. I pretended to be irritated... pushing her away and looking grumpy... but i liked it really... i know the importance of today. Father has given me my bow and showed me how to use it. My friend and i have been practicing, since we were boys, for this day. My father has prepared the special paint... the elders will pray... and i will join the men on my first hunt. Today is exciting!

I am a young man...

my wife if beautiful and caring... we built our home not far from the river, just out of earshot of the main village. We now have two Children, a girl and a boy, my wife thinks she may be with child again. The river is full of fish, the forest is full of antelope, my children’s bellies are full, i am truly blessed.

During the day I fish or hunt. The evenings are divided between time with my wife and time with the other hunters/fisherman... making bows, fixing nets and speaking of that which is past and that which may come. Once a moon we all gather in the village centre for a feast... a time of fun and celebration enjoyed by all.

I am a man...

I have 4 children, 3 girls and 1 boy. My son recently experienced the sadness and anger the comes with the death of a loved one. While playing in the forest his friend was attacked by, what we believe to be, a bear. We found his broken body by the river. We warn all the children not to go to the river at this time of year due to the bears being attracted by the salmon run. But sadly boys will be boys, and often they do not yet have the wisdom to heed the warning of the elders. My son was very angry... shouting and crying he said that he wanted to kill all the bears so that they may hurt no others. When my son had calmed slightly i explained about the circle of life... why all things must exist in order for balance and harmony. The bear does not kill through hatred or malice it kills because of instinct to survive or for food. His friend should not have gone down to the river and, sad though it is, his death must be a lesson to the other boys of the village.

I am an old man...

My life has been good. My wife, now passed into the spirit word, gave me 4 good children. My son and 2 of my daughters are married with children of their own. Sadly, my middle daughter is with her mother... She succumbed to sickness during a particularly bad winter. Her passing was one that affected us all deeply and still hurts to this day.

At night when, I close my eyes, I can still see my wife and daughters faces. I gain comfort from knowing that i will soon join them in the spirit word. My time draws near, and even with the sadness I have experienced I am still grateful for my life... It has been a good life and whenever I close my eyes at night I do not fear them never reopening. When I look at my grandchildren I see myself and my wife... it is a constant reminder of the circle of life!!

Child of the present

I am a toddler... i am 2 years old...

Everything is an adventure... everything is new and wondrous... In the morning, I like to run through the rooms of our home. I like the spongy feeling of the carpet under my bare feet... I pick some paper off of our dinner table... I sit on the carpet and start tearing the paper... i like to tear the paper into as tiny pieces as possible... I want to show mother... i grab a handful of paper and run towards her.... she sees me coming and smiles... I throw the paper at her but she looks shocked... she shouts at me and drops to the floor trying to pick up the pieces... I don’t understand why she is upset... I try to help her and she screams at me to “GO AWAY” but I don’t understand Mummy... We are now both crying!

I am a child... I am 7 years old...

On the weekends I like to follow father around the house, when he is not working, but he gets frustrated. He takes me into the room where my mother watches TV and tells her to “keep me under control” my mother tells me to sit next to her... but I have energy... I want to run... I feel imprisoned and frustrated... I sit next to her but I start to fidget... she shouts at me... she cannot concentrate on the TV with me fidgeting. I can’t wait for Monday... At least I can see my friends and run in the school playground.

I am a young teenager...

I am about to join the gang on our estate. They say I have to pass the initiation first... I left the house without breakfast this morning, I’m just gonna grab something from Mc D’s. Mother was still in bed. She has not been the same since father left home. I don’t care about him, he’s an idiot who just made her upset anyway... I’m looking forward to today but also scared, it will be nice to be a part of something that matters. I have been getting into fights for a few years now and can handle whatever they throw at me. Today is exciting!

I am a young man...

I have just been released from juvenile. I got 6 years for stabbing that kid during my initiation. My friend says he can hook me up with a guy he knows... he can supply me with whatever I want... My friend has done ok... been making money from the local junkies selling them that which they require. He reckons that a few months and I can be doing as well as him. Might as well... aint any other jobs around here for someone fresh out of a cell. I spend my first day of freedom at my friends flat. We smoke some, and we indulge in a little of what he sells... Wow, that feels good.... everything slips away... all the pain and suffering of my life blurs into non existence... What a way to celebrate, I’m lucky to have such a friend!

I am a man...

My body is a wreck... I look 20 years older than what I am... I have been on the gear for 10 years now... since my release from juvenile... Never did get hooked up with that guy. Two weeks after my release my friend was shot and killed by a rival gang. The party we started, two weeks prior, had never really finished... the need to escape had driven me back time and time again. I am now one of those who I was going to make my money from. My mother is a recluse and never leaves the home... She is almost is almost catatonic... which is probably for the best, I would hate for her to know about all the money I have stolen from her, to feed my habit. I can’t help it... I need it... when I don’t get it my entire body shakes... I get cramps and headaches... can’t eat, can’t sleep. Now the doctors say I’ve got the sickness... Who cares... I’ll be dead long before the sickness gets me!

[edit on 2-8-2010 by Muckster]

posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 06:17 AM
Great story...

For some nagging reason though, I feel like I have read this almost exact same story somewhere else, heck maybe even here on ATS...

Or maybe I'm just having major deja vu, I don't know.

It really does give perspective on how different today's world is from the past. I am very upset when I see the younger generations now. They all have their eyes glued to their cell phones, and in my experience, a lot of them are punks with no respect (not to say there aren't some really awesome ones out there)

I have at many times in my mind felt like I was born in the wrong era. I feel like I would be much more at peace if I could live the tribal life; living off the land, giving thanks to Mother Earth, dancing around fires... What humans should be doing. But instead most of us are working 9-5 shifts, watching TV, getting our food served to us instead of going out and gathering and hunting for it ourselves...

It was a good read, but like I said, I swear I read this before...


posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 06:21 AM
reply to post by SolarE-Souljah

Thanks SolarE-Souljah

i did reply to someone’s thread once with a very broken down, shorter and more basic version of this one.

This is a story I’ve had floating around in my head for a while but never had the guts to write it down in for people to read!

I will try and dig out my original version so you can see... however it was a while ago and was just a reply to someone so i may have trouble finding it.


[edit on 2-8-2010 by Muckster]

posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 06:25 AM
reply to post by Muckster

That makes sense.

Yeah the version I remember reading was much more concise and not as good. Cool dude. I really like this one.

Keep up the good work! I think you are a good writer.


posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 06:45 AM
Yes great story.

I always tell people this is not really progress.

Poisoning, killing, polluting all in the name of profit is not progress.

Most of us long for that simple life like this, love really meant something in those days now its just a buzz word for lust or put up with.

posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 07:11 AM
reply to post by Muckster

Very very nice Muck,
I was actually drawing it out as I read it, it's a good blend of Apocolypto, Dances with wolves, The Wall and Traffic.
I'd go see it !

posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 07:38 AM
God bless you, and thank you for that story. I have to admit I cried a little while reading that, and even though I was a little emotional already I could't help but think of my baby girl while reading this.

Your story reminded me of a thought I recently had that my 15 month old daughter is a timeless little human being. Every bit of her development I've witnessed so far is pretty much the same as a kid at any point in history (learning to eat, talk, walk, etc). When I look at her I could very well be looking at a child from any time.

She's like a little time traveler that's just arrived with no past and all the potential in the universe. But soon she'll gradually conform somewhat to this collectively agreed-to reality, but I intend to keep her mind open to what is possible for as long as I'm alive, and beyond if the universe cares to make an exception.

Thanks again for that wonderful little 'comparitive narrative.'

posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 08:18 AM
Makes you think we are all slowly turning into drones, an excellent short story, makes me want to take my kids out now and go fishing

posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 12:26 PM
reply to post by wozza13

Thank you all for the kind words... This short piece is an insight into my thoughts on the modern world and our so-called "progress"

It’s also a reflection of my admiration for tribe’s people who live a life that is more in tune with nature...

Thanks again,


posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 12:32 PM
Good stuff Muckster, your story certainly had me entertained and I managed to paint a good picture in my minds eye. You shouldn.t knock yourself, I'd be proud to come up with something like that.

posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 04:02 PM
reply to post by Muckster

I really liked this story and it is so true.
I am looking forward to reading other
stories by you.Star and flag.

posted on Aug, 2 2010 @ 07:13 PM
reply to post by Muckster

Very perceptive Muckster, very well done.

My best friend is a Native American and when her son turned 12 they had a "coming of age" ritual at a pow wow.

There is a basic physiological human need for both boys and girls coming of age to celebrate, a right of passage it use to be called. A acceptance into the group.

Now days it takes the form of joining a gang, or skull and cross bones (Bush / Gore), the masons, boyscouts, girlscouts, the softball league, etc.

Your story affected me profoundly because my oldest son at one time was a member of a gang.

When he was born I named him after one of the four arch angels and told him I did so because I felt after carrying him (he punched and kicked inside of me for five months straight) that he would need a really good guardian angel to watch over him.

One day, my son and several other members of his "gang" were on a drug run into the city (we live in a nice middle class suburb).

They arrived at their destination and got out of the car. My son was riding shotgun, in front on the passagger side.

My son said that as he stood there, he heard something wiz by his right ear, just a wizzing sound for a brief second by his right ear.

The young man in back of him dropped to the pavement, blood seeping all over the cement.

The driver said, "get in now or I'm leaving you we're outta here"

My son turned around and saw the young man that had ridden behind him was now clearly dead.

My son got back into the car and silently they rode back home.

After that incident, he knew there was a higher power mama had pleaded to - to protect him.

He quit the gang, they put a contract out on him, he was committed for over a year at a cost of a second mortgage (150,000), a small price to pay for the life of your son.

Now, at 33 he sees how misguided he was and how desperately my husband and I tried to save his arse.

He has a job, lives with a really sweet and kind woman and has a daugher that will be my only grandchild.

Once in passing he said to me, "mom, I thank you for believeing in me and protecting me when I got in over my head."

That is what family does.

Your story affected me profoundly because in my early 20's I always thought, if I obey "the rules", work hard, do what is right this "bad stuff" will never happen to me.

Well, it does, it affects all of us.

I am thankful my son is safe, matured and passed this situation.

See the movie "The Ya Ya Sisterhood".

Good movie, we all need a yaya sisterhood.

[edit on 2-8-2010 by ofhumandescent]

posted on Aug, 3 2010 @ 07:55 AM
reply to post by ofhumandescent

Thank you ofhumandescent... that means a lot coming from you

WOW... What a story regarding your son... At least he had good parents to act as a beacon of light. I'm glad to hear that he has turned his life around... I almost got lost in that world during my teens so i know how easy it can happen.

I've never heard of "The Ya Ya Sisterhood" before... i will definitely look it up... thanks again

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