Welcome to Nostalgia

Here I am
Facing the blue I was once so acquainted with.
Our reunion is well received by both parties
As we laugh and chat of all the things we seen
Since we last talked and sang of silly things.
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I sat on the now cruddy, once clean carpet of my past to reconnect with the view of my previously 5 year old self. The books slumped on the shelf where they once stood erect and ready to be read. One by one, I asked them to tell me the story they've each told a million times.
"Oh, my boy," they each sighed, "You've heard it before."
"I know, but i want you to tell me anyway. For old time's sake..." The look in my eyes was one each story knew well. It was the big blue sky colored eye look I'd get from swinging so high that gravity would have to reach to pull me down.
Besides, the books were never ones to turn down Old Time's pleas, so they sneezed the dust out of their binding and said, "Very well."
And as each of them shared what they were told to tell, the magic of each of their tales seemed as clear as the first time I heard it. From the boy who found life too dull to the raccoon that nearly fell over the waterfall. From the man with the purple house to a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, the euphoric feeling of escaping the ground's grip on me never felt so real with me sitting on a filthy floor flipping through tattered paperbacks and hardcover antiques. It made me wonder what would happen if I found a swing...
The books finished their interview session, with little else to say but who designed their cover and the year they were published. Tears fell down my face ever so slightly for as I listened to their stories, they reminded me of times when I found life too dull and when I nearly fell over the waterfall. It reminded me of when I wanted a purple house and that terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. If only I could have told those 6, 8, 15, and 19 year old boys those stories as they met those stories more personally, I could have told them, "You are not alone. Remember the boy, raccoon, man, and day? They remember you, I assure you." However, knowing those foolish boys, they wouldn't have listened to me. They never really paid much attention to silly things such as wisdom and contentment. It was more important to learn what 2+3 equaled or how to spell "spaghetti".
Regardless, time had stretched back far enough and it started to lose it's elasticity, pulling me faster and faster to my currently dull life, full of waterfalls, purple houses, and terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. The connection fading, I didn't know how else to find the feeling I found in dusty room. I ran to my car, silence the radio that pumped it's "I loathe you" propaganda so I could recite poetry about radishes and upside-down cakes and sing songs about a monkey and a weasel. I also sang about a bunny that lied over the ocean, but it never made much sense to me, but it made more sense than a "bonnie" that lied over the sea. I searched frantically for the color of nostalgia, with it's green ground, green and brown lamps, and blue ceiling. That's when I found it... A swing. I leaped out of my vehicle, neglecting the lines society set for me to sit my vehicle in, not to mention the mandatory "feed me" toll machine that would allow my automobile to sit in the black concrete chair that it currently occupied. But even in my complete presence of mind, I found the blessed chair that I came to see. So...

Here I am
Facing the blue I was once so acquainted with.
Our reunion ss well received by both parties
As we laugh and chat of all the things we seen
Since we last talked and sang of silly things.