I believe that swinging can solve all problems.
When I was young, I had a swing in my backyard. I would sit on the swing, play a c.d. on my walkman, and look at the stars while swinging and singing my heart out. Quietly, so as not to disturb the silent night.
On that swing, I felt like I could do anything. I could be anyone, anywhere, in any dream. The wind in my face made me feel like I could fly, and the stars twinkling brightly in the endlessly black night brought me hope. I was free. Free to do what I wanted, to listen to myself, to be myself, to sing to myself.
It was on this swing that I actually could do anything. It was the escape from all of the worries that made me feel like it was the end of the world. All my problems could be solved. Suddenly the fight I had with my brother wasn’t that bad. I didn’t mind that just the day before, he locked me in the bathroom for an hour, cut the phone line, and left me prisoner. Or that my friend just got mad at me for something I didn’t do. She did it, but of course, it was my fault.
The day before my swing got torn down, I sat on it for hours. Swinging. Singing. Flying. Breathing. It was then that I told myself that I didn’t need the friend that blew me off. It gave me perspective on my life. It told me that PE, although agonizing, was worthwhile. That I should run faster. Be wiser. Be nicer. Listen. It was on this swing that I decided to get good grades. And I did. Saying farewell to people during graduations was not as hard as saying goodbye to my old half-torn worn down creaky swing.
Now I look forward to the day when everyone in the world: all the messed-up celebrities, lying political leaders, and ordinary adventure seeking people, buy a swing set and swing. Maybe then we could all live in peace. For I truly believe that swinging can solve all problems. It’s just a matter of how long you’re on the swing for.
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