They Wouldn't Laugh If They Knew What Was Coming.

I really should stick to one interest.

I've wanted to get a dirt bike again for God knows how long and I have yet to get one.

I wanted to learn how to skate then I thought to myself: "Self...you are clumsy and ungodly uncoordinated why in God's name are you on a skateboard?" So I got off the damn thing, threw it in my garage, and went inside to have a snack.

I once found a pair of tap dancing shoes and had a blast for about 5 hours. Then I cleaned up the scuff marks on the ground before my mother could give me grief for it and that was the end of that.

At one point in time I decided that doing magic tricks was my best bet at having a rad hobby. I bought a book about magic tricks that came along with some props as well. I failed miserably at turning that into a hobby too. I read one chapter and put the book on the shelf that it has stayed on every since. Although, I do still know how to make a salt shaker disappear.

One day my brother and I were thinking of the good old days when everybody had a yo-yo. We then decided that it was in your best interest to buy at least 7. I can now only find one and it's the shitty one that neither of us wanted.

Pathetic attempts?
Yeah...kind of.

The plus side of this is that I now know what I want to do. I've never wanted anything more in my entire life.

If all goes according to plan , which it never does, in a few short years, I will be in a van. I'll probably be napping. I'll probably smell horribly rank. I'll probably be extremely sleep deprived. I'll also probably not have changed my underwear for days.
And it will be glorious.

I will be in a van preferably a VW bus with 3 or 4 other people that from then on I will consider my family. We will have nothing but the clothes on our backs, the instrument of our choice, and hopefully something with lots of caffeine.

We will most likely have little to no fans of the music we make. We'll be opening for bands that nobody has ever even heard of or possibly playing our little hearts out in a basement filled with 6 people at the most. And that won't matter.

And one day...we'll go to our highschool reunion looking more shitty, more lower class, but more full of life than anybody there. Then we'll shove the mother fuckers that laughed at us, trashed our party plans, and tormented us when we were just innocent children into the dumpsters and 1x2 lockers just like they always deserved.

Once that is accomplished we will be victorious.
We will feel infinite.
And my life will be complete.


xo.
B.M.