About Time I Suppose

I always feel the need to do something more tangible. Something a little more personal. The thought washes over me like a wave. A tide that I’m slowly drowning in until well here we go. Recently I finally purchased my own little piece of where ever the hell I am now. You are all welcome to never come over so, knowing where that is, is irrelevant to the situation. Point is that I finally got some land. Not much one to two acres out way from most civilization. Enough to pretend that nothing else exists, but still close enough to get decent internet.

I even got all the things needed to take care of the land. Riding lawnmower, a weed eater, and whatever else. I got everything I tell everyone who might ask though no one ever does. The problem is though I don’t like to be outside. I like the idea of being outside, but never see the point of being out there. It’s like how I like the idea of walking around naked in my house, but I don’t because it’s not practical. What if someone comes over? We’ve spent hundreds of years perfecting inside. Why the fuck would I want to go outside? Needless to say the yard has become over grown and there is a fine layer of dust over all the things I needed to make sure that this didn’t happen.

Letting the yard go was a mistake. Not because there might be snakes or rodents or even monster out there. Who the fuck knows I don’t go outside. It was a mistake because apparently despite my best efforts I do have neighbors and they have a son. Nothing unusual, nothing too strange about having a child. I have one or whatever. The problem is that they saw my laziness as an opportunity for their son to take on a challenge. Never a great start because who the fuck what’s to do something their parents want them to do? I’d be a doctor by now if I had listen to my parents, but things work out how they work out. Or as my mother likes to remind me, “There’s still time.”  I’m half dead. There is barely time to do what I am already doing.

So I hired the kid because his parents were brave enough to knock on my door and speak to me for more than thirty seconds. Yes, that’s all it takes. Anything to get them away from my house. I would have given them the keys to the house if that would have been an option, but my family needs a place to stay. They are weak and too afraid of what is in the tall grass. “Sad,” a quote we can all use now. So the kid comes over once a week to cut my grass and watch me walk around naked in my house. It was awkward at first, but there might be things out there lurking in the grass.

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