I HATE old people,
and by old,
I don’t mean of a certain age.
I mean of a certain attitude.
This is totally
my issue;
completely irrelevant,
is not inspirational,
is rude,
crude,
and socially unacceptable.
But,
still,
I hate old people.
If you ever see me
with boring-ass new clothes on
from J.C. Penney,
or driving a new square
American Car,
just shoot me.
Or, if you hear me
complain about smoke
while sitting at a bar?
Not me.
Copy this
and present it as evidence
of my permission to die
at your hands.
Now!,
a vintage J.C.Penney Towncraft
avocado green sportcoat
in a Large,
grab it for me
and I’ll double your money.
An ugly-ass
80’s Chrysler Convertible,
I’d mortgage my life!
Similarly,
If you hear me say,
“I’m too tired”
or
“I’m too old to do THAT”,
please!,
just shoot me !!!
Blow my Brains
onto a Blank Canvas
on The Lawn of The Louvre
in broad-daylight
if you EVER hear me
repeat more than once
that I am bored.
I’ll pre-sign it:
Grant Henry
aka SiSteR LoUiSa
aka The Happiest Man Alive!
Me get STUCK watching a television series,
that’d be NO!
My “bent”
is that all these things,
and all these terms,
are just symbols of giving up,
of fear,
of stopping self-growth
in it’s tracks,
settling into boredom.
If I’m only going to be here
on this precious planet
for this relatively teensy
minute period of time,
I’m gonna do it
eyes wide open.
TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE.
Stupid, Yes.
Boring, No.
(Refrain from sending me your “but, what if, how about, unless”. I’m on vacation)
