All four of them have planted their sweet pumpkin seeds in my heart. And with my love and devotion, they have grown inside of me from beautiful seeds into gorgeous pumpkins.
Although they have been picked up out of their patch and placed elsewhere, the patch remains a place of sanctuary for me, a place I call home.
No matter how I am feeling, when I listen to the sweet sounds of pumpkin talk, I feel one hundred times better.
Now you might say, “Greatest Hits?” Well, yes is what I say. The hits they have thrown have been among the greatest if you ask me, and indeed a lasting impression they have left on those who take the time.
They have in turn received hits, brutal hits that scratched the surface of their hard, orange pumpkin exteriors. Hits from their peers and hits from the spectators of Pumpkinland, a land where the impossible is possible. A land where the sky is blue and everyday is the greatest. Well, I guess that is just my opinion.
To others, it may seem like a dark place where the streets are made of dirty gold and the pumpkins themselves are more like jack-o-lanterns, glowing bright and in the spotlight. But not to me.
There are two ways to visit Pumpkinland. The first and most common way, is to go there in your head, guided by the sweet whispers and harsh screams that only they can execute.
In this sense, I go there everyday. Everyday, if only for a moment, I live in their kingdom and am a part of the royal family. And when you come back you are changed.
The other way to visit is to go there in person. Wow this is intense. In the midst of a pumpkin, you can be paralyzed or you can lose control. It is truly amazing to have no control over yourself and enjoy it at the same time. And definitely, once you come back, you are changed.
Let me take you with me, back two weeks. The magical night in Pomona, California of all places, when two of my seeds made a special appearance.
I was encountered by the troubled pumpkin. The one who had the problem, and the one who took a vacation from Pumpkinland to Rehab-Land.
Not a second later, the Pumpkin king himself was there.
This all sounds ridiculous to some, I realize this and I understand. However, no one understands what it meant to me, after all these years of paying attention to their beauty. I finally had an opportunity to show my appreciation.
Why do I appreciate them? Well, this can be answered in different ways.
The pumpkins understand and they know what I mean when I complain about the useless drag of another day.
They can help me understand life a bit more with every track. They never judge or criticize me. I get nothing but support from them.
I get inspired every time I experience them. Their power surges through my veins and at times is my only food.
I can honestly say that I admire their craft and not their fame. It does not matter to me if they were a successful bunch or if they had ‘failed.’ Our mutual support for each other has helped carry me to this day.
I know that to some this all might seem foolish, but I do not care. There are so few things in this sick, sad world that actually make me smile and this is one of them.
Even though they have left their land, I believe they will live on forever, even though they have said farewell and goodnight.
Jennifer Contreras, a junior photojournalism major, is editorial director of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org.