Tuesday, July 26, 2005

utensil hybrid

Don’t you damn well tell me you liked me better back the way I used to be.
I am the product of my own mistakes and I am quite happy with that. If you want a sixteen year old Colin, then go look at photos from when I was fourteen, because even then I was two steps ahead of you. Don’t claim to know the reasons behind my design. There’s nothing to know but dreams and madness and the occasional automated response. Who I was and who you wanted me to be, mean about as much as the random number I’m thinking of right now. I live outside of your head and I am not your reconstructed fantasy.

It’s entirely possible that this is all just a dream of yours, and you are the central axis around which this existence spins. But it’s also possible that you are not.

So seriously, the next person who says they miss “the old Colin” gets a spork to the eye.


Obligatory Cottage Picture Number Two, titled, “a Watermelon’s Final Farewell”





And the number was forty-two.