When I was a child I consumed information.
At young age I learned there was no point in asking because I would be told "look it up" so I did
And in my mission of discovery, my quest to be someone that ANYONE might want to talk to I became a person who couldn't stand himself. Until suddenly I was Asimov trying to figure out which law of robotics this automaton wanted to break first.
Buried neck deep in a library of books about my friend Sam Bradford trying to make myself someone who didn't hate myself.
But my buddy Benford stirred up a controversy and reminded me that if I chose to be passionate I wasn't allowed to be well informed. So I stutter stepped behind my lying heart until I took Occams razor and cut my metaphorical wrists. Mutilated my poetic skin, and people hear those words and ask me if I'm suicidal and I respond with "only recreationaly" they smile like it's a joke, and when asked to explain myself I instead challenge the questioner to a game of Russian Roulette with Chekovs gun and make light of every conceivable situation. Then I sit back and wonder how often I've been misquoted. Especially by myself.