Closure

I have lost the ability to care about sex. I think it's because she left me. I still care about people, I just can't find myself thinking, as I once had, how much I would like to have them. Now when I see a beautiful woman walking down the streets I can think only about how much I would like to see her naked. To look over every part of her. To see the things she hides from everyone. I just want to know everything she is. I want to see everything she has ever done and ever will do. I want to see everything she thinks. I want to be able to know her better than anyone has ever known another person, better than I know myself. I want to know her so well that I that I can love her and hate her at the same time, so I know how pathetic she is, so I know how beautiful she is, so I can convince myself she is just like everyone else.

So I guess this is sort of an apology for watching you take a shower last night. I was also thinking that maybe we could catch a movie this weekend?

You: Tall, curvy, brunette, birthmark on your left inner thigh, screams very loud when you realize someone is watching you

Me: 6’0”, 160 pounds, medium length hair, wearing all black, binoculars, outside your window last night.

A Chance Meeting

I was behind you at the 24 hour CVS Pharmacy counter when you were picking up your prescriptions a couple nights ago. It was around midnight and I was there to pick up my sleeping pills so I could get a good nights sleep. When the pharmacist handed you your pills he said, loud enough for me to hear, "Two of these are to be taken orally and one is a suppository, do you have any questions?" You quickly said no and then blushed as you looked over your shoulder at me. You paid quickly and wandered off to make a few other purchases and I bumped into you again in the cosmetics aisle and our eyes met briefly. Was it just me or was there something there?

Me: Tall, lip piercing, in my 20's
You: Petite, dark hair, black skirt, looked about 25ish

Maybe we could get together for coffee sometime?

Sit down. Stand up.

Today I was thinking about how scared I am to have kids. It’s partly because I don’t want to have the responsibilities and lack of freedom that comes with being a parent, but mainly it’s because I don’t want them to grow up to be like me. I don’t mean a high school dropout who drinks and smokes and has problems meeting women, I mean I don’t want them to grow up to be complacent. I mean sure, I have been known to break a few laws here and there, but I hardly think petty theft and trespassing can really be considered as “sticking it to the man.” I carry around a lock pick set in my pocket but I hardly ever use it for anything besides a neat trick to show off to friends or a way to take a late night dip in the public pool at one in the morning. I have plans for the future, I’m going to college, I have goals set with the intent of reaching them. It would break my heart to see my child falling into the same habits as me. If I ever had kids I would raise them to be little bastards with hopes that someday they would break into the white house and take a crap in the oval office. I want to see my little son/daughters mug shot on every TV screen and newspaper, I want to tell the reporters in a way that seems sincere “No, I have no idea what compelled them to release all the animals from the zoo and lock up people in the cages. They used to be such a good kid.”

Basically what I’m saying here is that if you don’t mind explaining to the cops exactly how your child managed to steal a tank and drive it through the walls of a state penitentiary to break out his jail buddies, maybe we could get coffee sometime.