Too Hard to Deal With (for My Imaginary Audience)
By William (January 9, 2006)
I am
afraid
of
everything,
so
people
(Does
my
imaginary
audience
count?)
Call
me
strange.
Though
I am
truly
not.
My
mom
says
I’m
talented,
(I
wonder
why?)
Though
my
mind
says
“I’m
too
hard
to
deal
with.”
How
very
peculiar,
I
was
so
sure
that
I
was
not
Too
hard
to
deal
with.
I
have
eyes
that
are
emerald
blue
…
ish.
And
my
fingers
are
perfect-
ly
long,
like
deformed
spiders.
(Which
I am
also
afraid
of
…The
spiders
not
the
hands.)
But
I am
ordinary.
Is
that
too
hard
to
deal
with?
I am
sad,
(I
cry
then.)
I
hide
when
I
meet
my
relatives.
(Doesn’t
everybody?)
I
despise
certain
people,
but
I
trust
everybody.
Oh
damn
the
hypocrisy
of
it
all!
Too
naive
for
my
own
good,
I
guess.
Is
that
too
hard
to
deal
with,
too?
Am I
some
sort
of
animal?
In
the
zoo
(For
my
imaginary
audience
of
course).
My
name
is
William
Bennett
the
Third.
Though
perhaps
today
I
will
be
just
William,
Or
Timberwolf,
a
name
I
once
wanted.
Maybe
now
I
won’t
be
so
damn
trusting.
Perhaps
my
brain
will
not
say
“I
am
not
too
hard
to
deal
with.”
As I
rip
out
their
(my
audience’s)
throats
for
my
brunch,
yum.
Like
the
animal
that
I
truly
wish
to
be.
Then
they
will
get
their
guns
and
violate
my
creativity.
People
say
I am
fine,
then
they
say
I am
strange.
Wrongly.
For
they
are
the
ones
who
are
odd
if
they
think
I am
all
that
exotic.
I am
too
damn
busy
being
too
hard
to
deal.
With
to
be
both
strange
and
naïve
(Damn
it!)
too.
It
would
tear
too
many
people
Apart.
My
name
is
William
Bennett.
I
love
most
things
And
people
too.
But
I am
too
hard
to
deal
with,
Right
now.
To
you,
(my
imaginary
audience.)