I am one of the Indians they sent on the

I am one of the Indians they sent on the Trail of Tears. I am an orphaned child. I am a stormy night. I am the cold touch of a dead lover. I am what men do not know how to say.

I am what I am not while not being what I am not being not. I am all these things and absolutely nothing to boot. But don't let that stop you from being the asshole I was, am.

I am so confused by the everything I have become. I feel like the highlander, knowing everything seeing everything but eventually ending up a disjointed messed up time line. What

Caused me to become this way?I thought back to all the decisions that made me into the person I am now, a person I've come to regret.Oh, if only I could turn back time, and

erase the wrongs of my life. But, as life goes, it moves on. I can't change time, and I can't dwell on the past forever.

He drew a red lightning bolt over one eye and danced into the night, cordless mic in hand. The pant-less dancer was infamous around these parts and feared by many.

Which made perfect sense. You're likely a danger unto yourself and to others when you go around cavorting into the night, sans cares and well...pants. Red lightning bolts or other

colors, it doesn't matter. You don't want your privates exposed to that sort of energy. At least a zipper in front would be better than nothing. Or would it conduct electricity?

ZAAAAAAP!! "OwwwwheeeeOwwww!" I shouted, clutching my fried gonads. "OHLORDYOHLORDYOHLORDYHAVEMERCY!" My jeans!They were ON FIRE!!! "Stop! Drop! Roll!" I remembered from 3rd grade.