Sobs

Crying post. I'm not a crier. The last time I cried was some time in 2008, and I don't want to talk about it. In fact, there's only one thing that comes close to making me cry, and that's mentioned on this blog elsewhere.

When I was young, I used to have two crying "voices." I put that in quotation marks because I don't know what other word to use. What I mean to say is that these crying voices had rhythms and inflections that denoted two distinct styles; the first happened when I was disappointed or didn't get my way--that is to say, it was an emotional cry. The second was more rhythmic, like ah-hah-huh, fast, and this is what I cried when I got badly hurt, physically.

There was this time, I was probably 5 or 6, and I was running to and from my father in the hallway in our first house. How could you ever describe the rules to games little kids play? There are none. This game involved me running and touching my dad's leg and then running directly away. On this afternoon, I did this very thing a few times and then ran right into a door jam. I saw stars. A flash of light. I spent a few hours in bed, having learnied what real pain feels like. Ah-hah-huh.