you know that feeling

you know that feeling, when, you like, just want to skip all of the college bullshit and be 25-years-old, self-made, rich, with gucci pants on your ass, happiness in your pocket, and a personally commissioned photograph of the ocean on the wall of your high-rise apartment in new york city? you know that feeling? i have that feeling, except it doesn't give me shivers because i can already see that at 25 i'll be scraping burnt hamburger off the grill of your local denny's because i couldn't finish this goddamn essay on a poem written by a 19th century american homosexual who could have summed his whole piece up by saying "we're all the same," instead of writing 60 sections of poetry and lumping it all together as one thing.

knock on wood.