Comething

What was so good about the 21st century?

All it made me do was think about the 20th century.

And then I started to get nostalgic about things before my time.

Because that's what you do when you age.

You become agist.

And you don't even know it until you hear yourself speaking out loud.

Or maybe when someone points it out to you---

that you did not, in fact, come from the greatest generation

that you did not, in fact, come full circle with your appreciation of the Etch-A-Sketch

Breaths were becoming shorter because I kept finding different priorities

And it wasn't that my dreams were dying

I think---

It was that I genuinely didn't know what I was doing

and all I could identify was a deepening chest pain

There was an ominous sensation

I believed---

that this pain was something big

and it came with butterflies

and shakes in my elbows

and then I made a point to forget how to smile

It was all just easier that way---

and then I could build an icebox for my mind

and commiserate with the confusion of the computer

and befriend the solitude

with a benign and naive hope of outsmarting you all