The dreamlike quality of periodicity.

[Rocco Caputo]

It feels like a noose. Or maybe a rug being wound tightly around me.
No, it's more like being in a crowd of kids during physical education
class. Yeah. It's exactly like a dream about high-school P.E.
-=-
The coach picks team leaders for today's game, delegating responsibility
to kids and watching how they deal with it. The arbitrary leaders pick
their teams from the ranks of the ferior and inferior, usually in
descending order. You can trace whole lineages of friendships by watching
this process of "us" and "them". Nearly a decade ago I'd watch this
happen in anxious slow motion, hoping I wouldn't be last; knowing from
experience that I would be. Yeah, it's tough being an outcast when
you don't know any better.

Today the dream ends differently. The teams come out even as the second
to last person is picked. I stand alone facing crowds of people, giddy
that they aren't where I am, and the coach tells me I can choose which
team I want to be on. Faces go white, and smiles crack. I think back at
how stupid I've been for worrying about being accepted by a bunch of morons.

I laugh loudly at the entire situation. Peals that ring metallic off the
bleachers and walls suddenly stop, and in the stunned silence I voice a
quiet, "No." I turn around and walk away.
-=-
Which generation's gonna win the fight? Carasso says he's got $10 that
his'll win. I'll give representatives of each "side" a twenty if they
just beat the living shit out of themselves and go home. I've
"christmas-treed" the dumb-ass Gen-X test and I'm leaving the auditorium
three hours early.

So long, suckers.
-=-
Pop Quiz: Can you spot the allusion to my first flamed t.b article?
Hint: I was ab^Hccused of wasting bandwidth for a one-word follow-up.

--
-><- Signature.