Caged at sixteen years old. Because I'm all bleeding heart and dumbly, I find myself wishing I could fire up the dune buggy time machine and morph into some 1950 Karlene Faith therapist dude and say, "Yo, Chuck. You gotta chill." But I'm not sure Charlie would listen. I surely did not listen to adults at sixteen.
When I was sixteen, I loved a girl named Kira. She played bass, was more than a decade older, and married someone way more famous than me. So great was my pain I placed a curse upon their marriage. The curse eventually worked but Kira never came my way.
By then, I loved a surfer named Janet anyway. But Janet never received my mind messages through the tv and was therefore also lost to me.
I have one more post for the weekend unless some of the actual blog writers appear ready to go before then. One small issue with my upcoming post is I've temporarily misplaced all of the research. So there's that.
I love you even if you don't love me. +ggw ohio.
