Me: Quite frankly, I’m disappointed by my recent posts: there’s been no talk of astronauts, space, astronauts in space, or monkeys. (If you don’t see the relevance of monkeys to space, please excuse your ignorance). I suppose my motivation has been waning. After all, for what reason should I keep up the charade that I am consciously not becoming an astronaut?

Me: I’ll tell you why, you dolt. Because the astronaut shtick is not an endeavor to be achieved; it is instead a set of ideals by which you are living, and by which you might continue to live for the rest of your semi-adult life. These ideals are not solely embodied in one gimmick; they are exuded in every stupid poem, ironic short, and literary gamesmanship. Bask in it.

Me: No.

Me: Yes.

Me: Okay.

I have to tell you, I think I could put my talent to better use.