I'm Inventing Electricity And You Look Like An Asshole

Kamloops, B.C. doesn't welcome me back so much as as it punches me in the mouth and steals my credit card. Same hotel, same room, same view of Mcdonalds and Dairy Queen out the window. I can't see the mountains from my hotel but I can feel them dwarfing me. Not nessicarily calling my name, just blocking my exit and forcing me to turn back. Every time I write I ask a question right about here, today I'll set fire to a forest instead. This is all on the way out and there's nothing I can do about it, everything will be different in early Winter.

My parents grew up with lead paint, plastic in the garbage, tire fires, red meat, off color jokes, smoking doctors, no birth control, lsd, manual labour, corded telephones, black & white television, real butter, church, Russian nuclear threats, married five years ago, beat up by the principal, no sesame oil, creaky stairs, drunk on airplanes, diesel, stick shift, math on paper and Richard Nixon and they're (relatively) fine, how is it that I'm still a child?