reflecting

Human beings are mother nature's unwanted, bratty bastard children, and we will grey her hair and hollow her face and eventually, inevitably, be the death of her.

I have my flaws - an ever-absent accent, an honest sense of humour, my father's cynicism, my mother's skepticism, an imperfect complexion, sturdy ankles and expressive eyes. I'm volatile and my heart's too big. I can't focus well and I hum and sing too often. I use my brain a lot. My memory is selective and deceptive. 
Thanks for the reminder, but I haven't forgotten.

I've been bored. My mind's been wandering, and if I was preemptive, I would think to carry a notebook with me. At the most random times, I have moments of clarity or something like it, and I am inspired and my train of thought chugs along for hours if it's quiet enough. I think I'll remember every thought, but I never do. If I wrote them down, I could most definitely write a book (at least one); they're that golden.  It's unfortunate that I'm so careless when I'm thinking so vividly.

I learned last week that my great-grandfather did not, in fact, die of a heart attack. He put a bullet in his brain. As effective a death as any. His wife, my great-grandmother, lived to be 100. She went blind and saw snow, forgot the face of her son, and lived alone 364 days a year.

I plan on killing myself (dying happy) at the very first sign of senility.

With the right publicist, I could pass for average.