Perfume (LURRIN) and earthquake (LURRIKARA) are on the same page of the dictionary. The last word is dodo, that bird that didn’t know how to fly and became extinct, just like dinosaurs did.
Legend says that dodos had a unique smell, a perfume that could cause earthquakes. And the reason they were hunted to extinction was that people wanted to put an end to those devastating earthquakes.
Sooner or later everything becomes extinct. Even memories are forgotten. But I refuse to accept defeat. Even if I have to douse my eyes with perfume every day, until that smell becomes a part of all my tears, I will keep remembering the things I once loved.
An earthquake is something you cannot escape. Unlike rain, which can be easily avoided under an umbrella, earthquakes are truly all-encompassing. They reach every part of you. In that sense, they remind me of perfumes. One whiff, just one, and I am transported. I am imprisoned in a memory. Until the smell fades away, and I crawl out. Battered. Bruised. Dizzy. Lost. Wishing that I had different memories. Ones that weren’t so devastating. Ones that didn’t have the same aftermath as an earthquake.
I’ve heard that memories can be rewritten, that every time we remember something we write it down again. And I wish I could forget those words, because I don’t want to change my past. I don’t want a different, an older version of me rewriting my childhood memories. I don’t want a stranger changing who I was. Changing everything that I once held dear. Turning it into a monster. Or even worse, into a parody. I lived those memories, I don’t want anyone else’s handwriting touching them. But now I know that that is too much to ask. And even though it pains me, I had better start shattering my bottles of perfume.
I read somewhere that an image was more powerful than a thousand words. That must mean that perfumes are magical, because a single whiff can bring back to life a thousand images, a whole memory. And I have decided that that is what I will do. I will fill a bottle to the brim. I will break it. Releasing a thousand different smells at once. The best parts of my childhood. To create a new world. More resilient than a dream, more enduring for sure. One with enough magic not to fade away. That’s where I plan to live when I grow up.
I think that I know why dodos could cause earthquakes with their scent. It’s because they had forgotten how to fly, and they hoped that if the ground shattered under their feet, that knowledge would come back to them. They hoped that if the sky was the only thing left in the world, they wouldn’t forget how to fly a second time. But they were hunted to extinction, before they could realize their dream. Before they could go back, to who they had once been.
You have it wrong. Haven’t you ever heard that the Earth is a mother? That’s what loving mothers do. They encourage their fledglings to leave the nest, to spread their wings and take to the sky. It’s just that dodos required a harder push, because they were dragging their feet. Mother had to use earthquakes. And I just wish that someone cared so much about my future. That someone cared enough about me, not to let me waste my wings.
It’s not that I don’t like being a child. It’s not that I don’t appreciate all the love I have been given, and the dreams I have been allowed to have. It’s not that. I just wish they would let me grow up. I just wish my childhood could become extinct, like the dodo it was always meant to be. I just wish they would let me move on, and actually do something with my wings.
As far as extinct species go, I prefer dinosaurs. They may have been clumsy, but at least they were kings. Dodos were just clowns. At least that is how I have seen them depicted. Like clumsy, fat birds, that didn’t know how to fly. And I am grateful for that, because it makes recognizing all the other lies I have been told that much easier. I just wish I could still be here, when we become extinct, and the next kings take over the world. I would love to see how they describe use. Which words they come up with, to feel better about themselves, to feel like the crown really belongs on their heads.
Something I will no longer have once I grow up, once my childhood becomes extinct like all the other dinosaurs? That’s easy. My curiosity. My sense of wonder. The thing that makes me stretch my neck, wanting to see a little bit more of the world around me, because it still feels like a dream. Something beautiful. Something that is worth getting to know.
I don’t like thinking about loss, it’s depressing, and I have been told to look on the bright side. So, I can tell you something I will gain, once my childhood becomes extinct. I will have horns, spikes, thorns, tongue, you can choose the word. I will have something sharp, to be able to defend myself. I will have that sharp thing I wasn’t allowed to have as a child, because someone else was supposed to be there to protect me. And I will try not to think that it’s too little, too late, because the one that should have been protected was that child.
Don’t be mean. I will always be a child, I will never become extinct. Flying will always make me feel alive. Flying will always be freedom and hope. It will always be something beautiful and colorful, like the wings of a butterfly. Not something taken out of a dream. Flying will never be running away. Don’t be mean. Don’t lie to me. My dreams will never be the place where I will go to hide from all the ugly things of the world. I won’t spend the rest of my life running away. I will spend it flying. With my beautiful wings.
Do I really have to say it aloud? I thought that everyone already knew that growing up means feeling small, smaller than ever before. That it means no longer being a dinosaur, a giant, and feeling like the world is yours and you can do anything you set your heart on.