Crazy People Don’t Age?

I was watching this lady while I sang the other night. She has to be at least 15 years older than I am and she is absolutely beautiful and young looking still. I remember her from way back and she has a 25-year-old daughter. She was always very “excited”. Everyone knows that she is as close to insane as a person can be without being locked away…Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure she’s spent a weekend or two convincing some unassuming doctors that she was sane. I’m sure that they just let her out because she was smokin’ hot and they probably weren’t allowed to date their patients…and their wives likely wouldn’t want them to either. I realized that the crazier you are, the more likely it is that you will not physically age. It makes me really believe that not worrying about anything stops the clock. Personally, I have made it a practice of not trying to worry about anything that I can’t change in the past. I remember kicking a rock as a child and accidentally hitting a car with it. Boy! My Dad was mad at me. It was a Vintage Black something or other…I don’t know what…because I was about 9 years old. I think my Dad wanted me to be more sorry than I was. I was sorry…but I wasn’t sure how to go back and undo the pebble kick. I guess I don’t really know what he wanted me to say but “oops. Sorry”, wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. I should go back and make sure that car is okay…although I’m quite sure that the owner has long since passed away worrying about the little pebble ding in the fender. “Oops…Sorry.”

I know that the definition of “crazy” is “doing something over and over again and expecting different results.” I suppose I’m not crazy enough to look like I’m still 9 years old though I have always closely monitored the perimeter when I’ve kicked pebbles since. It’s okay though. I really don’t worry about anything anymore. I always get a last minute pardon in every instance, so worrying along the way is an aging, fruitless attempt at beating myself up over the past. I have no need to do so. If I could figure out how to build a time machine though, I suppose I could try to go back and unkick the rock, undate the narcissist, unlike the girl in college who didn’t care for me because she was worried that I might have a better singing voice, unthink that I wasn’t good enough for guys who clearly weren’t good enough for me even though they spent most of their time trying to convince me that I wasn’t…hmm…Interesting! I can’t, I learned from them, I do but don’t care, I am and they aren’t! Great! No time machine necessary. But if I ever do complete this time machine that I’m working on, I would like to give each of those people the opportunity to take a ride in it back in time to figure out what they may have had in their past that made them feel like it was necessary to make everyone in their future feel like they weren’t as good as them instead of allowing them to flourish by their own right!…But when they get back, I’ll likely be in a different part of town where people knew each other’s worth all along!

So many people spend their lives trying to convince people who don’t want to be a positive force in their lives that they should like them while looking through the hearts of the people who already recognize and appreciate them to begin with. I don’t need to prove anything. I’ve stopped worrying about those people who will never get me anyway. Crazy town is for the youthful and happy!…Besides…though I’m pretty good with electronics, I usually get so excited when something powers up, I start it up even though I have all sorts of parts left over. That time machine will likely explode upon re-entry! I wouldn’t ride in that thing! – Too risky!