i am the child of the wasteland....a land of haunted houses and monsters i call father. dark talents run in the family, but i shatter the glass to let the moonlight in, not to destroy something fragile for the feeling of breaking beneath my fists. all i can do is scream, crawl out, and keep screaming. but i can hold the sparrow, mend its wing... i am the spring rain and the hurricane... the monsters cower now, not me, not you. *xn*

Thursday, Feb. 27, 2003 - 9:05 pm

have been wondering what to say about mr rogers- what a weird and sweet guy.

you have to admit that his show was kinda odd.

you didn't need to be an adult to wonder about mr speedy delivery and ponder if he wasn't taking that role just a little too seriously, and the girl/woman lady aberlin, she would cry like the movie character Lily when stroking and talking to the puppets. i always wanted to beat up the puppet lady elaine fairchild.. :) even as a child you could tell mr r. was x the owl and king friday and the platypus guy.

the stories were naive and the costumes a cross between low budget but effective. what was up with the shoe changing and sweater wearing? just wear it to the house- and the house? was it supposed to be where he lived? i didn't care.

i did wish i could see him making breakfast and crawl rumply out of bed, signs of real life. my life was so much pain that looking at him made me feel like i had a glimpse into a world where i wouldn't get beaten and harmed, and where the neighbors really were nice and the neighborhood was sweet and filled with bakeries and theaters of puppets.

then the trolley ride to the surreal land of make-believe, i was more wanting to go with him behind the scenes and have fun playing the part of a puppet who lived in a cute home more than "believing" in the puppets themselves.

he had that picture frame movie projector where i learned about making gumdrops and chewing gum and saw a roadside attraction in the shape of dinosaurs- strange little glimpses into the outside world. hope for the future in a life that felt like prison, that felt like every day was the end of the world over and over and wishing you were dead most of the time.

but mr rogers, and Jim Henson.. gave me hope. made me smile- i don't know if either one ever knew what they meant to some people. not just entertainment, but actual hope that there may be something creative and colorful and meaningful outside if you could just hold on long enough and live through childhood. windows, they made windows into hell, and it shined through, and i doubt they ever understood its power themselves. maybe now they do. out there where now they know everything.

they will make the angels envious



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