Words fail me.
No really, they fail me. My brain fails me. I am devoid of coherent thought. As I sit here, I turn progressively into an idiot...with not even enough savant to back that up.
I think I probably peaked at the age of 9. At 10, I must have been a fucking genius brimming over; All pop-corn pop pop popping with thoughts and plans and ideas and notions. Bigger and better and more aerodynamic and packed to the sundecks with the protein enriched goodness of freshly squeezed possibility.
But i guess it's been downhill ever since. The vaunted balloon of my virtuosity hit a low pressure zone just short of the finish line and snagged itself on the jagged edge of mediocrity.
And now my intelligence works in fits and spurts, like a broken juicer or something...the blade keeps turning but the trough's jammed.
All I know is the shine's definitely off the old noggin. I'm not as razor sharp and puking possibility as i once was.
Who knows, at this rate I should be drooling into a sippy cup in about 7.5 years, give or take a few.
1 comment:
loved this blog... it could be called "entertaining" if the writer understood that it is not coming from voyeuristic pleasure...
loved the posts... very good writing
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