When we were young and confident and damned good-looking, we didn't have to play coy little games. But we did anyway, just for sport. That was half the fun, anyway.
When we were young and lost and damned good-looking, we didn't have to know where we were going. Dead-reckoning got us to wherever we were, and dead-reckoning would get us back. Maybe not the way we came, but the way we wanted to go was where we went.
When we were young and strong and damned good-looking, we didn't let walls stop us. Walls only meant that there was something on the other side worth having. Walls were a sign of the opulent, of people with so much stuff they didn't even know how to enjoy it all. They would never know that you snuck into the garden of their Seacliffe mansion, just to steal their multi-million dollar view of the Golden Gate. They wouldn't notice it. They wouldn't even miss it.
When we were young and starving and damned good-looking, we didn't take multivitamins. Multivitamins meant that you accepted the vision of the future where all food is in pellet form. No, we ate they way the Pharohs dreamt of; only the very zenith of the food pyramid was worthy of our diets.
When we were young and genius and damned good-looking, we didn't study. Essays were plucked from the clairvoyant fog of too many energy drinks the night before deadline. We knew that if we zig-zagged our answers on the scantron sheet, we'd probably get enough right, probably more than most, because, let's be honest, guessing is a skill, and woe to those who never learned to be lucky the way we did.
When we were young and immortal and damned good-looking, we didn't die. Death was an impossibility, more remote than the liquor store across campus. More remote even than home, whatever that was anymore anyway.
We didn't wear bike helmets. We didn't floss. We didn't count our beers. We didn't sleep. We didn't wear underwear.
We didn't forget we were alive.
