It Was Written

I remember when I used to just talk to these things.  Whatever came out was out and there was no getting it back in.  Man, that's when I knew how to write!  That's when I talked about things that mattered!  No backspaces, no pausing; just letting it rip.  Go back and fix mistakes later.  Don't stop to take time and think about things, just shoot the fuckin breeze, man.

But, even realizing that, I still can't go back and do it.  My mind is so well-trained to be conscientious it makes me sick.  I am far too concerned with proper grammar and even worse when it comes to punctuation.  Fuck it!  Fuck it all!  I want to go back to using exclamation points not just to fool people into thinking I'm happy, but to actually mean it.  Get pissed off, get in a rage!  Let the momentum flow out of me, like an Atlantic riptide dragging me back down underneath into the depths of my own thought.

But I just can't do it.

I remember when I thought I could do everything.  Not just anything, mind you, but fucking EVERYTHING I could ever want or dream.  I can't do that anymore, either.  There's always limits.  I think I can have a lot, but I certainly can't have it all--that would be asking too much.  Every single day something comes down on me that further compacts what little recycled youthful optimistic idealism I have left laying around my Soul.  So I settle for something in between.  A compromise with Fate, if you will.  I can't go to law school at the University of Chicago, but I can go to Cleveland State.  I can't have Phish tickets, but I might be able to swing tickets for Umphrey's after Hempfest.  I can't just spew out useful garbage with little to no effort anymore--like I used to be able to--but I can do something in between that and the grinding, academic approach to expression that has been strangling my novelty ever since I first stepped foot on university soil.

And, I think I'll take that.  Even though I could argue it's a raw deal, it's probably a fair deal.  After all, what have I ever given Fate in exchange in the first place?

Absolutely nothing.

For those of you keeping score at home, that's:  Dragonman, 1; Fate, 0.