object permanence.

something you may not know about me: some things you may never know about me.

my mortality is following me, making fun of me, laughing every time i trip on the cracks.

i've been here for years.

years.

yet i'm too above myself to care. i'm a god in a man's body; resigned to taking it all in as entertainment; to pushing every boundary just to see what happens, with a destructive streak that can only come from a profound acceptance of mortality's humor.

...

every once in awhile, you see yourself as all of yourself, typically as a tralfamadorian in transition. it's in those moments that you're still yourself (how am i not myself?) but you cease to identify with yourself, at least in-so-far as you can no longer be upset by upsets or offended by the unjust assumptions that go along with going anywhere.

having nothing to prove can be a major disadvantage, especially when everyone expects you to prove yourself.

maybe now and then little clues give you little clues. you can catch a glimpse of what was a formative experience for all of us, not because we wanted it to be but because it had to be, subtly referenced in every projection, out-of-context and out of reach.

maybe i'm just too damn good at being detached.