my status as a positive teen role model

I am having so much trouble being a POSITIVE TEEN ROLE MODEL. First of all, I am not a positive person. I have no overarching positive charge, so to speak, or at least, any electrical fields I emit are my own damned business. Another thing about being positive is that a person tends to attract electrons that way, and I hate electrons. I hate teens, actually. I hate pretty much everything, including teens and electrons. This does not make me a positive person. Speaking of teens, I might be a little old to serve as a role model for them. I have never read an issue of Tiger Beat magazine, and I do not know their pop celebrities. I admire Gille de Rais for killing so many teens, actually. He had a great mustache. These all make my status as a positive teen role model problematic, especially since I am usually under the influence of mind altering drugs. Drugs are a good thing, in moderation, and that makes them even more of a good thing when used immoderately. I like to tell teens that life is meaningless, and that they should do drugs to make the pain go away. This is good, advice, I think, and by doing so, I can really connect with them. I suppose, it was these sorts of conversations, drunk and under the influence of mind altering drugs, that led me to believe I could achieve celebrity status as a POSITIVE TEEN ROLE MODEL, but it is not working.

a trout's lament

I hate hanging at the end of a line like this. I am sick of this line. I am sick of this fishhook. They bait them with such lovely things. Now, I see waders in the water.

Rhizodont

I admire your coronoid fangs, beast, and your beauty. Ages before there were ages, you were out there devouring killer sharks with one sideswipe of you crowned head. Your sinews, your dark eyes, the ebb and flow of your predatory moods-they call me. To the dark denizens of a Devonian swamp you are sheer terror to contemplate. To me, you are my origin, my ancestor, and a vision that sustains me no matter where I turn. I could never forget you because you are in my bones. My radius, my ulna, and to an extent I can scarcely contemplate, my own heart, I owe to you and your predatory machinations. You are a lovely beast under that dark water. You cannot last, but nothing lasts, and you will live forever in me as a tetrapod. A mass extinction will take you out the same way everything worth of a real death meets its fate at the hands of a cataclysm. You are no exception, being at the top of so many links in the food chain. Cataclysms will happen, but not before you have given rise to the hands I use to record your passing. You live in me, forever, Rhizodont.