Warped Dreams

So I was out with dana, my significant other. I don't want to say wife, cause she's more than just my wife. She's my best friend, my inspiration, my sex slave, all rolled into one. It's really convenient. Anyway, that's not what I'm talking about.

So we're outside, looking at the sky (because the Tasmanian sky is always beautiful) and I'm thinking, wow, this is a nice sky. Then I start thinking about ways I would alter it to make it the sky I want. Turn down the intensity of the sun a bit, move this cloud over to the side more, perhaps a slightly different shade of blue--and as I think it, the sky starts to morph.

I used to look at women when I was out walking or at the mall. Hey I'm a guy, right? No more. Now I look at hair styles and say, I have that hair at home. Look at that outfit...I can probably make that. Wow that girl looks just like Stephanie Petite.

When I get up in the morning, it takes a long time for my vision to clear. I just assume the world hasn't rendered yet. It takes longer and longer as I get older. I'm thinking I need an upgrade.

And then I look in the mirror. Heaven's bells! Somebody's played with my morph dials again. Wrinkles, gray hair, the artist of my creation has been rendering me while I've been sleeping . This is all wrong.

Once I was young, virile and agile. Now I'm like a Poser 4 figure and all the new models are out. Who would want to use a Poser 4 figure, when they can have Michael 3 or James?

So here I am, a mere 44 years old, and already I'm obsolete. Newer people have replaced me on the world stage, better looking and far more posable. In fact there are days I can hardly get out of bed.

I wonder if one day, someone will do an upgrade of me. Steve 3. I'd like that. In hopes of that, I sign all my pics Ste3ve. The 3 is silent, of course, but then so is hope.

Anyway, I think it's time to power down for now. These old bones need more rest than they used to.