As I sit here in my fading state of sobriety, I wonder. Who am I? Am I the drunk who writes? Or am I the writer who drinks? Am I even a writer? Am I even a drunk? Drinking happens rarely for me anymore. I'm way too busy to sit down and get drunk, too much to do. The same way with writing. Never have time to write, just gotta rush off to the next thing. But there are those magic moments when I have time to myself, like right now. Right now it is finals week and I have so much homework to do it is overwhelming that I've just put it down and figure I'll ride my faith to pass these classes. Only one more class to finish before I graduate, unless I screw this quarter up. So? Why not? I'll put my homework down, pour myself a couple screwdrivers and relax for a little while. While I do, why not take some time to write to my friends out there on Renderosity. They've surely thought I've lost my rocker after the last little bit I've written them. Perhaps I have, perhaps that's just who I am. But there I am again. Who am I? I must admit, I am being very frank with this piece. None of my usual allusions and vague metaphors. Who am I? I ask all of you to tell me who I am, because I forgot. Am I a child in a man's body, or am I a man in a child's brain. So much of me never wants to grow up, and yet for every ounce of child in me there is another part of me that never wants to admit I was ever a child. Debt can pile up and be paid off in time, but the child in me will always remain. I was staring at myself in the mirror the other day. I still see the same face I've seen for years, 22 of them. I might not remember every 22 of my years, but they are all there. A man, standing in front of the mirror, but I still see the child. No, I don't live in Alden anymore, where I could go out back through the cow pasture and the corn field to hang out by the creek with my good, no best, and only friend anymore. We had such times back there. Fantasies of strange realities where we were not children but full grown adults were played out in the groves hidden amongst those fields. Now I live in a different town, and play out in my head that I am still a child playing in those groves of oak. Yes, I still talk to my only good friend, his name is Ian. He is finishing up his apprenticeship as a plumber and is making way more money and still living on the same edge of debt that I do. I am a married man, still wishing I was a child, the same child that always wished to grow up. Who am I really? I am a drunk, a writer, an artist, a musician, a technician, a geek, a lover, a loser, a winner, a dork, an overall great guy, great with people, great with computers, great with words, great with money, great with a microwave, and terrible at knowing myself. You see, when I was a child I beleived in things that I knew didn't exist, but I beleived that making myself beleive would make those things true. I had special psychic powers where I could actually adjust reality just by making myself beleive in my own reality. I was an excellent liar then, because all I had to do was believe in what I was saying. Nowadays I don't even believe in lying. Meanwhile tons of homework is waiting for me and I'm only lying to myself. Reality won't adjust itself for me anymore. I can't just make myself believe that I'm some rich guy with no worries in the world and a cabinet full of liquor. All I have is a ton of work, some orange juice, and a bottle of vodka. I wish I could write forever but nobody would read it if I did. In fact if you read this much I sincerely thank you for taking the time to sit down and listen to my concerns. If it weren't for people like you and I, there would be nothing left of society. And I must add that I'm not as drunk as I make myself seem, and I don't drink as often as I make it seem. Off to write my homework in a drunken manner. P.S. for those who are interested I am starting a Create Your Own Adventure like story for one of my homework assignments. It's not finished yet, but I'm serving it from my home computer at http://airlynx.thatsghetto.org Any support in getting it finished would be greatly appreciated. (P.P.S. When you get to level 5 and you are unsatisfied with that page, go back to the starting page and download the script, I've developed level 5 a little better in there) This page is hosted from my home computer so don't expect the fastest response on it . . . or the greatest uptime.