Old Pieces Are Still Powerful 3: Adaptation

Do I have any original thought in my head? My bald head? Maybe if I were happier my hair wouldn't be falling out. Life is short. I heed to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm a walking cliche. I really need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There's something wrong. A bump. The dentist called again. I'm way overdue. If I stopped putting things off, I'd be happier. All I do is sit on my fat ass. If my ass wasn't fat, I'd be happier. I wouldn't have to wear these shirts with tails out all the time. Like fooling anyone. Fat ass. I should start jogging again. Five miles a day. Really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more, improve myself. What if I learned Russian or something? Or took up an instrument? I could speak Chinese. I would be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese and plays the oboe. That would be cool. I should get my hair cut short. Stop trying to fool everyone into thinking I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that? Just be real. Confidence. Isn't that what women are attracted to? Men don't have to be attractive. But that's not true, especially these days. Why should I be made to feel I have to apologize for my existence? Maybe it's my brain chemistry. Maybe that's what wrong with me: bad chemistry. All my problem and anxiety can be reduced to a chemical imbalance or some kind of misfiring synapses. I need to get help for that. But I'll still be ugly, though. Nothing's gonna change that.

Adaption