during my busy day, i think of the most prolific ideas. i swear. i conjure up thoughts that would put many philosophers to shame. it’s true — really, it is. i’ll think of how i want to phrase these thoughts when i tell them to someone. i will attach the wittiest anecdotes to my undoubted genius and will be dubbed the greatest orator that this damned generation has ever seen. i’m not joking.

but at some point during my day, i manage to forget everything i want to say. it’s completely forgotten by the time i reach the front door of my house and i draw blanks when i search my memory bank for the said prolific ideas. i convince myself of my genius, but no one will believe me, kind of like the way you aren’t believing me this very moment. and stand before you all, a crippled fruitless mind.