Rebelling against the choir

I was in a choir in primary school. A christian one. We sung. I did the slides. I sung alto.

There was a stage where we all wanted to leave because all the guys that couldn’t sing were doing ‘fun’ things. The teacher said, ok this is fine, but she turned her back and let whoever wanted to leave, leave. I led the way.

I had such good memories of camp. Every year at the same place. It was a gathering of SDAs in a camp ground they owned in Perth. The smell of the grass and the pine trees. The tents. The big tent. I sung in the big tent.

All these memories were nought when I wasn’t in the groups of friends anymore and I went to a different school.

Handball at the toilet blocks. There was perfectly set up large blocks of concrete with a wall divided by a meter space where the path was. We played this with everyone. It was so much fun.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to define myself according to star signs.

I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to think it is ‘cool’ that star signs are sometimes accurate.

I forgive myself that I haven’t allowed myself to realise that if star signs are accurate we really are in a preprogrammed world.