What?

I was 17 once. I was dangerous. I smothered myself in rock 'n' roll. The Who defined me. I had direction: Nowhere. I read a lot of history. Current events indicated ultimate futility. What the fuck was the point to any of it? I mocked the oldsters. I was a renegade. I was an enemy to whoever thought they "had it all figured out." I suppose it can be said I was an ageist terrorist. I was going to die before I got old. I drank and did drugs. I drove fast while under the influence. I feared for those who pushed when I was already too far gone. I was definitely an intellectual gone wild. I respected Johnny Cash and Dylan Thomas but I wasn't convinced of their diligence towards self destruction. I was to be the one not waving but drowning. I was not to see 30. My story was a fait complete. I punked out when I saw the extreme beauteous hope in the perfect smiles of my children. Nature hoodwinked me.