An Ode to Me.

I've spent twenty strange years apathetically wandering a very small section of the world. Not really wondering, but circling, following a well worn track like my high school boyfriend's intense Jack Russell Terrier, Napoleon Bonaparte. Life interests me, but I'm too much of a thinker. Apathy cannot be innate, my generation is just too overwhelmingly lackluster for this to be a genetic malfunction or something to be blamed on a rogue vaccine. Heads down, Ipods turned up, lets just tune out the world with our pirated music. I'm part of that fleet, except I've yet to give my ear drums away to Steve Jobs quite yet. Dreams are sewn with different thread these days, a double stitch of reality television and a quick hem of some pop culture reference. I dream of something similar, I deeply adore fur and would give up my Honda CRV for YSL boots. Yet, a horrible dichotomy has recently been brewing under my twenty first century skin. Something realer than the Real World is trying horribly hard to break out of a lifetime of willingly soaking up society's juices. I think I want to change. And I think I might actively try it this time.