domingo, 11 de junho de 2023

God Of Israel

In my last year of elementary school, when I was 11, the teacher caught me throwing a stone at a maze there was in the school's playground, and she said, "So, the saint is showing his true colors". The following year was my "perfect student" year, and I specially remember the portuguese teacher's sympathy for me. I used to try and read her mind, questioning if it was only sympathy or she was also having imaginations like, "This kid is going to be the president or something". And I caught myself replying to my own thought, "She's naive, I could be twice as smart and I'd still be nothing but a loser". Those odd conversations with myself make sense now.

There's also an interesting event that happened two years later, when I drew a stylized "Bush" and a friend of mine started to make fun of me, saying I had written "Elisa", because there was a girl in our class with that name. I think their attempts to read my letters were somehow mysteriously foreshadowing future events, a path I would not be able to deviate from, as if it was something coded in my character.

Weird or what?