Kaleidoscope Read Online Free PDF

at least some resemblance to what I'd hoped it would look like, broken with occasional stares out the window at the somewhat warm days. Days like these were ones I remember often spending outside before we moved, and while I had thought about stepping outside for them now, I couldn't bring myself to actually do it.
     
    October 21
     
    Looking outside from my bedroom window today, I remembered how much I used to love being outside when I was young. In fact, most of what I can actually remember that's good ends up taking place there. I thought about going out there today, but I know it wouldn't have been nearly as fulfilling. This fact made it depressing to think about going out there...and it also made me very angry.
     
    I didn't always used to be the way I am now. They call it a mental “illness,” I call it a change of perspective...but either way, I do wish it was possible to just wake up  one day and be totally happy like I used to be as a child. Things were so much simpler...the world hadn't lost its magic, and I was a stranger to the evils of the world. Innocence and ignorance keep the magic of joy alive, but I no longer have either of those things.
     
    Instead, I just have this picture in my head that I'm trying to paint.
     
    As I sat in Ms. Orowitz's office, my head miles away from it as usual, I thought about the last entry that I'd written in the small, leather-bound journal. It was a depressing thought, wondering if it was possible to experience the wonder of the world through a child's eyes as an adult. Was it possible after witnessing what the world truly was really about? Not all of it was good; in fact, the world was sometimes a terrifying, horrible place. I believe one's attitude of these negatives, and a person's strength to handle solid reality, shapes their perception of the world around of them...and inside of them, too.
    In my head, though...in there, not all the magic was lost. I was told it's an unhealthy side effect of my “illness” to constantly prefer the dreams, landscapes, people, and places in them to those in real life, but that's just how things were for me. In my imagination, I chose how events would play out, and kept only the most beautiful things, tossing out anything unpleasant or harmful. I could see things there that no one else could, things that wouldn't be seen anywhere else. It was so much more peaceful there, so calm, like when I looked into the tiger's eyes...
    But how was it possible for me to see the real world so negatively, full of loathing and distrust, and still find hope in my perception of the possibilities inside of my own mind? Maybe there is something wrong with me, after all.
    The door opened softly, and Ms. Orowitz waddled into the room, closing it just as softly behind her, as if she would wake some imaginary beast if she were to just use the door as intended.
    “So sorry about that dear, I had to grab some files for my sessions tomorrow.” In her arms, she held a small bundle of manilla folders, cradling them as if they weighed far more than they did. “I hate cutting into our limited time together.”
    “Yeah, it's...sure limited...” It took everything in me to not bite back with sarcasm. I don't know what it was about this woman, why her every breath got on my nerves, but I had to just keep reminding myself that she was trying to help. Regardless, the ten minutes that ticked off the clock in her absence were a welcome relief.
    Ms. Orowitz sat down in the imprinted spot of her red armchair after placing the files on her desk. She adjusted her large glasses, leaned back, and smiled at me.
    “So, how was your weekend?”
    I sighed, reclining back and placing my feet on the arm of the sofa nonchalantly. “Pretty uneventful,” I replied.
    “Your mother called the other day to tell me you've been taking up some old hobbies. That's wonderful news!”
    “Really? Mom actually called you to tell you about that?” I was nonplussed, and a little