George Jefferson And Wheezy...

When I was much younger than I am today, I used to think that if I concentrated hard enough - my latent telekinetic powers would emerge. I thought that the problem was that I just wasn't concentrating. If I could just focus, then that fucking thing on the desk would move like I wanted it to. I hoped that I wasn't really a madman, that all of the crazy thoughts that I had in my head were normal. But how could they be? I thought of some really sick stuff. I was scared that somebody would be able to read my mind. Sometimes, I'd look around the room and see if anybody was looking at me with a look of abject terror on their face. I lived in fear of somebody finding out all of my deep, dark secrets. I had my head in the clouds more than on planet Crap-Earth. I would catch myself talking out loud based on whatever day dreaming scenario I had cooked up in my tiny, little brain. Sometimes whatever I was thinking showed up on my face. People would ask me what was wrong - I usually wouldn't know what to say because I wasn't even aware what I was thinking was evident. Fantasy worlds know no boundaries. I never wanted certain books to end. I would conduct interviews with myself. I could imagine the cameras, and how I would look on the TV. I humped things a lot when I was younger. Bed posts, basketball poles, anything taller than me. Try to pass off that shit to your older brother after they walk into the room. I used to spend hours playing with my Star Wars figures, and if I was feeling particularly ambitious - I'd try to set em' all up on a big ol' chalkboard that I had. It takes a long time to make all of your limber figures stand up at the same time without falling over. My nerves sucked even back then. It was hard. These sessions usually ended whenever my brother came in, because he'd pretend to accidentally knock them over. What's worse? Him coming into the room when I was humping my bedpost, or when setting up my Star Wars figures? Then, I'd say the figures. Now, I say the Star Wars. Cuz' that's just plain wrong. It's not like dominoes, the games over once they're all knocked over. Young boys can always find something else to hump. Wait; am I talking about my early years, or the nineties? Shhh...shut up, myself. Yeah, you heard me, me.

I'm getting older. Yeah, I know - you're older than me. Blah. Lick it. You have your life, and I have mine. I'm finally hearing the ticks of the clock that I've noticed in the background - but now, they're getting louder. It's hard enough to appreciate something that you just saw a second ago, let alone trying to keep up with the pace of your day. I don't know what that meant, but that's okay. I think I lost track of where this was going, but it wasn't supposed to go anywhere in the first place. It doesn't matter. I gave up a long time ago trying to solve things through verbose definitions, I gave up trying to make marks, I gave up trying to get it all down. I haven't developed a sense of apathy - I just got tired of running in circles. It's all been said before anyway, and better.

Now that I'm older - I'm more apt to save my breath...