Turning point. Mile stone. "This is the begging of you life!" they say. "Go out and grab life by the horns" Sure, or I could cut off my hair and go for a nap in the grass. Plow through piles of paper wad buildup. Cry not because I miss my childhood but because I am happy to be re-living it with a slightly improved vocabulary, knowledge of world issues and fashion sense. Except I do miss those northern getaway shirts. I'm going to send out a few resumes and aspire to be something but I think I'd rather stroll on over than run full steam ahead. I'm going to keep writing letters to the sky, to atom bombs and to people who life across the universe. Sit on my porch, drink tea and watch that old lady across the street to tell her husband to "fuck off." Examine the bugs on the walkway out back. Frolic. Play bingo. Look out my window. Sip some wine, look up at the stars and some other cliche coming of age shit. I like it this way. Nice and easy. Bitchin'.
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