Year 25 of my captivity 

I figure I got my first job at 16. So it’s been a quarter-century of fun and games. 

I had that moment yesterday of thinking, wow. I was born to be in charge, and I never made it past a certain point. And that saddens me. 

Now I’m not upset in a Bernie Sanders voter kind of way. I don’t expect anyone to hand anything to me and I won’t cause a riot and insult the winning team because life isn’t fair. 

But when I go to think about what my goals are, I can’t start without figuring out how to un-burn (or Bern) out. 

What’s the lube that will get me unstuck, and where will I go flying if I actually gain momentum?

I loved school when grades would set me apart from the rest. I love work when I excel and set myself apart from the rest. 

I mean, I’m stunted when it comes to normal life stuff.  When did the universe decide I had to be unremarkable across the board, and why did I slowly but surely stop fighting it?

I need a life lobotomy. 

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