Who can it be now?

Sometimes I feel like a hamster running in a wheel with someone watching me in what must be the most boring experiment ever conceived. If anyone out there believes in Intelligent Design, then sit back and let me show you my whole life in a home movie and not only will you be cured, but you may even question the use of the term "evolution" as an alternative model. Something like Kaleidoscopic Metamorphosis might be a more accurately descriptive slogan for the progression of mankind.

You ask why? No? ...well I'm going to tell you anyway. I feel like a raccoon in a room full of shiny objects. Maybe it would be better to be Bullwinkle, but I am tempted by every difficult hurdle I see. I want to learn guitar, I want to paint watercolors, I want to be a yoga guru, I want to be a philosopher, writer and a poet, I want to make everyone laugh and cry at the same time, and most of all I want to be a good father and husband, but there seems to be a lot of contradictory mutually exclusive objectives even when I pick only one or two tasks as my focus. Consequently, jack of some trades would be a generous account of my path to this point.

I must hide in my apartment and tiptoe across the floor not because I'm paranoid the man is coming to take me away. It's more the dread some distraction could replace my current obsession with a more attractive one. Stack each of my (overkill) compulsions as the sum of my existence and...

Ghosts appear and fade away.