The Reclaimed Diary of Junior Doe
I'm a run away.
I'm not that fictional Mary Run Away-- from That book. The one I'm hiding in my hand. Bet you didn't see it. You may not have a chance to read it. If you're "young-adult," like me, it's widely banned. It's got No-No issues we wouldn't understand. Things like Phys ed, Mental health, Disabilities, Social relations. Big things but in simple words. I'm not going to use those heavy Terms. That would be a mistake.
Human growth and development--I know those are the big words! Ripe, and ready for the chopping block. Hum. Dev.
I'm going to give you a book that can't be censored. A work that says all the things on the Human heart, but in a way that can't be Casted away.
Sure, I know that's "Grammatically incorrect." It borders even on Politically Incorrect. But the error is Perfect in what it points out literally: the throwing away, the sealing off of parts of Life experience. The temper tantrum of the terrible Two's over what's "Mine" continues. It's the base refusal to Share. We tie ourselves up like this well past high school.
But I am run away lips. I am going to let my thoughts run free. Man, we never know what we are birthing. Words, or babies. Soldiers, or revolutions. It starts with loosening of Lips, right? Otherwise, nothing comes out. Not blasphemy, nor praise.
Censor that and it's like putting a chastity belt on Mom's apple pie. Gross Overkill.
This is the American way we hold to be self-evident... it's ellipses, a series of periods. Fertile. I'm a girl. I totally get that bloody visual. And there's no reason every child, male or female, should be ignorant of our Biology. We are people of Science, so's I heard. No need to cuss for M'Fasis. Whatever you believe in, we all follow the Rules: of The Bio Logics. We're born, we geriatric (oops! big term), we die. And it doesn't make sense. Nope, not to anybody-I-know's sub logic.
Junior's my hero. He's telling it in the rough and comic. I mean he's like Superman and Clark Kent, at the same time and more. Not PC. Not applesauce. Not Pasteurized and Canned. Not Plucked and Clean bikini waxing. He's real. He's got Disabilities. He's got Trauma. He's overcoming. It's positive. He's got ordinary parents, with common flaws (strengths and vices). Wow. He's loved by his family. Imagine that. Just like the bulk of us. Planned or unplanned pregnancies but accepted and reared as best as two people can. A mother and father, together. Man, that's so average. So like me.
I almost forget he's Native. That's like a cloak he puts on while talking about "everyman." You always have to have a gimmick to sink your titanic into human sentiment.
"Gimme your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore." Go Lady Liberty!
What's my line? Treading. I'm tight rope walking over the V--
Mount Vesuvius, duh, not vulva volcanics down there. Where did your mind go? Shucks. The unmentionable. Shame on you. Self-censoring like that in the 21st century, when we're so open-minded.
Let me tell you about how I recovered.