defying guilt

so i remember this again, from time to time, and it's resurfaced today, for some reason. you were maybe 5 or 6, maybe younger, hard to tell. we were in our room at the old apartment. you were being a brat, as usual, and pissing me off, at that moment. i had a plastic hanger in my hand and i swung it, not meaning to actually hit you, but i guess i did. i instantly felt bad. you had a tiny cut on your hand. it was red but barely bleeding. you started screaming and ran to mom to tell on me. i defended myself based on my opinion that even if the hanger did touch you, it couldn't have made that cut you were crying over. i said you probably did that yourself. but i was really defending myself in an effort to defy my guilt.

there might have been a moral to this story, but i'm multitasking too much right now to reflect on one.

Re:Start

I'm going to start blogging again, after an ice age, because lately when I daydream I've been entertaining myself with memories and places in my childhood. Sometimes rather than coping with all the emotions and thoughts that define me as I am now and trying to get that all on paper, I’d rather just take a little break and go back in time to who I was then, moments that may reveal something about the person I’ve become. So I thought instead of just letting those images and thoughts go into the wasteland of passing thoughts, I'd write them down. Because memories become more alive when they are shared, don't they?