Getting Old Is No Fun


For as long as I remember I have been bad. Nearly expelled from a Catholic elementary school I had punched a nun in the stomach.  She hit me first.  Making up sins to tell the priest in confession–my penance was so long I pissed while kneeling at the altar.  For doing this I may not go straight to heaven.  At school lunch I would take other kids’ food. This lead to weight gain since I mostly took cookies. I was obsessed with girls bodies, always picturing in my mind what they looked like naked. This was not a learned behavior. It came to me naturally.

As I have gotten much older, I still have bad thoughts–I just don’t act on them. Getting old is no fun.




I can still lose my temper.
When I raise my voice and make a fuss, the feces,(shit), always hits the oscillator,(fan). When I decide I’m going to lose it, it can scare old women, some small children, cats and dogs and fellow employees. I have ended relationships, lost jobs, woken up in a padded room, and generally messed up my life, with these short scary outbursts.
I know the consequences well, and, with the mean season,(holidays), already started,
I’m going to monitor my behavior.