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SQUIRREL IN NEARBY TREE

I am still too upset to talk about what happened. I was good friends with Chris. I can’t believe what that woman did to him. He was a hardworking, God-fearing bee, who had a family and a good job. What that woman had against him, I’ll never know. To tell you the truth I don’t think she even knew him. What a bitch. I’m going to find out where she lives, go to her yard, and act crazy on her fence.

TREE

No comment.

GOD

Forcing a bee to commit suicide is one of my biggest pet peeves. This is not good for this Maureen person.

Who I Am

Who am I? That is a simple question, yet it is one without a simple answer. I am many things—and I am one thing. But I am not a thing that is just lying around somewhere, like a marker, or a toaster, or a housewife. That is for sure. I am much more than that. I am a living, breathing thing, a thing that can mark with a marker and toast with a toaster and house with a housewife. And still, I am much more.

I am a man.

I am also a former baby and a future skeleton, and I am a distant-future pile of dust. And I am also a Gemini, who is on the cusp (Taurus cusp).

I am “brother” and I am “son” and I am “father” (but just according to one person, who does not have any proof but still won’t seem to let it go). Either way, I am moving very soon and not letting her know about it. I am asking you to keep that between us.

I am trustworthy and I am loyal, but at the same time I am no Boy Scout. No, I am certainly not. I am quite the opposite, in fact. And by opposite I do not mean Girl Scout. No. I mean Man Scout. And by that, I do not mean Scout Leader. In fact, I am not affiliated with the Scouts at all. You know what—let’s just forget about the Scouts and scouting altogether. Okay?

I am concepts and thoughts and feelings and outfits. And I am each of these all at once, unless I am in the shower. Then I am not outfits, because that would be uncomfortable.

To some I am known as “Chief.” And these are usually people who work at Radio Shack or who try to sell me shoes in the mall. To others I am known as “Buddy.” These are people who dwell in bars and wonder if I’ve “got a problem” or what it is that I am “looking at.” And still to others, who are in that same bar, standing just off to the side, I am “Get him!”

I am he and I am him. I am this and I am that. And I am, from time to time, “Roberta.” But I am not going to get into that right now.

People have known me by many titles. In high school, I was “Student” and “Key Club Vice President” and “Queer Bait.” In college I was “Pledge” and then “Disappointed” and then “Transfer Student” after that. And now I am still amazed at how picky certain so-called “brotherly” organizations can be. And I am actually glad that they didn’t pick me for their stupid fraternity. I am>

To some I am Myth and to others I am Milt, mostly because I have told them that this is my name—even though it is not even close to my name. I am a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a pita. Why the pita? That counts as another mystery.

I am everything and I am nothing. I am just kidding, I am not everything and nothing. That would be ridiculous. I am just everything.

I am what I eat. And I am this especially when I bite my nails.

I have been called many things, like “Hey You” and “Get out of the Way!” and “Look Out!” And then, some time later, “Plaintiff.”

I am my own worst critic. I am going to give you an example now: “I am not being me enough” is the kind of thing I am prone to say. See what I mean? I am sure you do.

I am the silent majority.

I am a loud minority.

I am not talking about Puerto Ricans when I say that, because I am not a racist. I am just clearing that up. And, by the way, I am someone who has Puerto Rican friends. In fact, I am pretty sure I have at least one friend from each of the races (Hi, Dao-ming).

I am friend. I am foe. I am fo’ sho’. What up y’all?

I am sorry about that. I was just talking to one of my race friends, a black