Mind swimming and swirling as everywhere but straight down isanother guy in my view. I'd rather stare at my breasts than them, butthat only reminds me...of being a girl as well. Ugh, I don't know if I canmake this...The bell rings and I dart out of the room before the third tone evencomes through the speaker.Lunch table. Good old cold lunch table. I lean over on it, breasts lyingon there, squishing a bit but I don't care. The smell of crappy food,girls mixed with the boys, and my own exhaustion. UntitledUnattributed [1]I was never the cool uncleToo old, too absent, too out of fashionI was in my thirtieswhen J was bornTwice the age of "cool"And seven years past "cool older guy"I'd said "these kids today" before she was even bornand by the time she had a favorite bandI didn't know what kind of music they playedor why anyone would like it(or me)I didn't live nearbydidn't "help raise her"wasn't "always there"not like some TV uncle. More

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