Thirteen

Once when I was 13years old, I skipped school. Just to lay around all day at home, eating cereal and watching tv. That was one of the best days of my childhood. And it was the first time I ever remember taking a nap in the afternoon. After several hours of tv and eating, I drifted off, fat and happy. And I had a dream of what my life could be like, if I could get away from school and people and just be free, fat, and happy. Me and my tv against the world. Needless to say, I woke up, in more ways than one. Its 20 years later today and suddenly I remembered that day, for no particular reason. And the memory was followed immediately by this realization: I’m living the life that I fantasized about all those years ago. Only, I’m not happy. All the freedom, fat, and tv in the world just makes me feel like a lonely loser. Should I be grateful? These do seem like the salad day when viewed through adolescent eyes. But I’ve never done anything good with my life except have a wonderful son. Besides my kid, there’s nothing permanent about my life. Nothing that makes me feel… successful. So just tonite Ive decided to put down the tv and food and see what’s waiting on the other side of work. And sweat. And dedication. I’m not sure what’ll happen or what I’ll find. But it’s got to be more interesting than this stagnate world where the 13 year old boy ended up. Maybe I’ll find a better dream waiting beyond constant freedom. Who knows?