I'm getting old. Not the sexy, wise cougar old. The senile, drooling babbling kind of old. For a week I've been patiently observing my rapid deterioration and for a week I have slumped into a deeper and deeper state of depression and hopelessness. No! Nay! Don't try and stop this spiraling crazy (yes, I am referring to myself), just let it happen.
You might be wondering where my grandiose claims are coming from, or from whence my proclamations of fading common sense have manifest. I'll tell you. It's coming from the many little mistakes I've caught myself making. For instance, forgetting how to spell, "add" correctly and embarrassingly using, "ad." No, that's not all! My psychosis continues with forgetting the "'re" in "you're," and-get this, using "the" instead of "for," but ya know when I knew I really lost it? I knew when I stared at a computer screen for a good, long while and couldn't think of ONE thing to write down. It's finished. The transformation is finished. I used to write like my life depended on it and now, well now- eh. I don't know where it all went. All my passion for writing, the time for reading. I think the city ate it. So, I guess I'm just gonna have to beat the shit out of the city to get it back.
If you haven't guessed, the city is that gross pedophile and I'm that kick ass kid.
I'm out.
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