inspired

This is a note I wrote when I was sixteen. It's not perfect, but it's an example of how a younger me wrote.

-from 8/8/06

i was in an inspired mood,
due to two special peoples,
so, i wrote down the following on the back of a receipt (more or less), so as not to forget it.
so here goes...

on the way to church today i saw an old man standing in his yard with the sprinkler on and looking very confused.
i believe this to be a metaphor for life.
the old man is like us, humanity as a whole.
he is old, as humanity is,
he is wrinkly, and humanity is not flawless.
then there's the yard and it's relationship to the man,
it's like the universe--much larger than the man,
and when mowing a lawn, it seems as if it has no definite ends.
the yard is also like the past,
giving us firm foundation to stand upon.
the sprinkler spraying water is like today's society.
it's fluid, but more than that,
it's completely random within a certain limit.
for, you can predict where the water will land in relation to the area it will water,
but you cannot tell each individual drop of water which blade of grass to bathe.
this randomness within confines pretty much defines society today.
because yes,
originality is not a real definite idea,
but more of a personal concept,
very much like the way the range of the sprinkler means that every blade of grass will get wet,
but when the drop of water hits the grass and rolls down,
it sinks into the dirt below,
to be sucked up by the roots.
the grass is now only slightly damp, until the next drop of water hits it.
your idea, my idea, everyone's idea, has hit someone else at some point.
but because they are most likely not around anymore,
the idea has become dull and switches to backburners of society,
not completely forgotten,
for it's still there in a small part at our roots,
but the idea only comes back into the world full force again by slapping a new person in the face.
and then there's also the splash that a drop of water makes if it hits the blade of grass at an angle.
it dampens the one blade,
and then hits another full force,
only to repeat the cycle of sliding down to the dirts and the roots.
this is like when one person has a part of an idea,
but not the whole concept.
when the next person comes along and learns of their slight knowledge,
the concept then comes to them,
and though they can claim a certain amount of originality and brilliance,
a small part of the idea was already planted in another man's head.
and then the last part of my not original yet original metaphor--
the man's confused look.
well,
i don't understand this life,
and i don't pretend to.
i'm just completely dumbstruck by the whole thing.
pardon me if my jaw goes a little slack.