Are you familiar with Time Travel?

The mind is so frighteningly powerful when it decides to apply itself. I have gotten older and fatter and less impressive in most every aspect of life, but my mind is as sharp as the day it was dropped on and in my head. If it can manage to create stories and poetry and 3-D renderings of people I've never met, and I mean they are stunningly close to the real thing, holy fucking shit is my brain good. If it (I) can manage to do all these things, why can't I seem to grasp the concept of aging? A doctor told me once, years ago, back when I was 19 or 20, he was giving me a checkup and he found something directly related to my unhealthy lifestyle. I can't quite recall what it was or my exact reaction, but he snickered at my mild flabbergastation and said, "What? You didn't think you were gonna live this long?" That has always stuck with me. He's right. I never think about getting older. Ever. It just sort of happens. And keeps happening. 

I think I believe in fate and all. I'm pretty sure I do. It'd be downright irresponsible Not to, I guess. It's sort of like heaven in that it's just safer to pretend it's there and it might could possibly have anything to do with you, ya know? I'm rambling now. On this Monday night, I am sitting in my office at work wondering why I don't feel anything. When did I stop experiencing true joy? Is that what the doctor found? My dumb little fun chip was busted? That would make sense. Let's go with that. I can never properly put into words what I mean when I say that I don't feel things. Of course I do. I feel happy and sad and angry and drunk and horny and excited and all that stuff. They've got matchstick effects, though. Once they're lit, I have seconds to set fire to something meaningful, otherwise I just end up with smelly black tips in a smelly dark room. People. Every single one is a waiting wick. And all to often, I fail to prolong sparks. It is strange to think that this will go on. 

Not being able to say exactly what I mean is annoying. Not being able to write things that are plainly true is annoying. Not being able to say the word 'diary' without gagging. Well. That's just manly. 

If you come away with nothing else, know this: 

This blog has nothing to do with the title.