ok
i thought id post another post another piece of writing that i wrote last summer
i suppose its about me pining for my lost childhood
shutterspeed
(the death of a generation)
by sean gould
castle greyskull has closed down
its doors are locked forever
he mans not around anymore
he hasnt be here for years
hes not here to protect it
i cant protect it
the batteries in my thundercats sword ran out years ago
and lion-o is nowhere to be seen
things are so different now
gone are the days i would sit there with baited breath waiting to see if skeletor or mummra were going to get what was coming to them
but now im stood on the back of a lorry watching some driver complaning that some dickhead as spilled his load
where did the years go?
whatever happened to that little seven year old i once was?
im now old enough to have a seven year old myself
but i havent
instead im stood on the back of some lorry in some factory
then i go home to an empty flat
rent payed by my basic wage
this wasnt how i dreamt it when i was a boy
i wanted to grow up a hero
we all did
but we never do
i had dreams of being superman
until i saw that woman turn into a robot on superman 3
that scene still terrifies me to this day
and ive never found my lois lane
well maybe i did
but im just not her superman
but she is just like me
the carebears and my little pony deserted her many years ago
she has long since given up waiting for dogtanian and the muskerhounds to rescue her
she like me is also a slave to the grind
disillusioned with adult life
now realising that the fairtales her mom once read her arent true
theres no narnia at the back of the wardrobe
just cobwebs and a shirt that hasnt fit for three years
we both occaisionally meet up in some over priced coffee shop talking about chidhood memories
laughing about zippy george and bungle or sooty sweep and su
saying how life isnt the same as it was when we were kids
but of course its not
we are no longer kids
we are no longer those bleery eyed kids who used to come home after an eventfull day at school to a meal that was cooked properly not these burgers that cook in the microwave that break neck spped that the kids eat today
then we sat infront of the telly watching ed the duck in the broom cupboard
but nowadays its different
get home after a stressfull yet day at work not bothered to cook anything so throw some god awful ready meal into the microwave or maybe order some greasey undercooked takeaway
no broom cupboard on tve just news
news of credit crunch swine flu the war on terror and the death of micheal jackson
oh the death of micheal jackson
theres another piece of my childhood gone forever
even though i must admit over the last few years i have been one of his harshest critics
but i seemed to forget when i was six or seven i totally idolised the man
i used to moonwalk until my little hearts content
i knew all of his songs word for word
but i traded my micheal jackson tapes in for metallica cds years ago
i guess i just out grew them
im not the boy i used to be
im now a man
thats hard to take in at times
im now living in the big world
in my one bedroom flat
a flat which is decorated with statues of daleks and cybermen
and thundercats boxsets line the shelves
i myself walk aroud proudly waering a transformers t-shirt
am i nostalgic for the old times?
or do i just simply refuse to grow up?
written 19th july 2009
