pictures of me as a balanced child

My family is in the habitude of telling me how odd I was a child, since I’m similarly odd as an adult. It never quite dawned on me until I looked at pictures from my childhood. I’m having copies made, but it would be nice if some of them existed on the web, as relics of the 2000s; such a nostalgic era.

I’m not quite sure what I was doing; maybe mimicking a crab?

I know I wasn’t fond of people.

Stardom.

Mom says I liked umber and russet; I think even my expressions embodied those colours.

My sister tended to annoy me by saying my eyes were as black as nightfall, and she could never see the iris. I now understand her.

It truly eludes me as to why I held wilted rose petals as if I had just waged a centenary crusade against every bush in the garden. I probably did, though.

My parents have over twenty-five thousand pictures from the 90s and 2000s, along with twenty hours of film. It’s daunting to sieve through it all, especially when it carries so many dormant memories. I did pay a plaintive price for my strangeness, later on, but I can confidently say that I wouldn’t trade it for much, since now, my strangeness is my charm.