I've turned to a life of crime, it's crazy time. Which can be a very good feeling. I'm carving out a whole new life, looking for the thrills that criminals alone enjoy.
After they let me out of "the can" (jail), being released on my own recognizance, which is tough to admit, I went back home. I'm sitting there thinking, Criminals don't hang around home, do they? It brought such a feeling of disdain to my spirit for everything normal that I had a brainchild: I arranged a bunch of my most prized possessions in the middle of the room, peed on them, and left the house.
I made my way uptown and wandered the alleys for a while, then a few side streets, then the square. It was when I got to the square, with all the businesses closed, yet with my reflection in every passing window, that I saw the weirdest transformation of myself.
I'm all alone at this point, of course. There's no other criminal worth his salt who'd throw in his lot with me, because I haven't yet been tested and tempered. And I saw a few other hoodlums, standing over by the war memorial. One little squirt they called Johnny had climbed the memorial and was sticking chewing gum up the nostrils of the soldier statue. I definitely approved of his rebellious gesture, but figured I better walk on.
The square was alive with the usual noise, cars going by. But after a while I put it out of my awareness and was focused solely on my own hideous descent. As I passed windows, at first I looked like my usual old boring self. But as I dwelt on the hardening of my attitudes and the coarseness of my thoughts -- I never would've approved of defacing war memorials before -- I felt myself becoming ... whatever. If you have to explain it, then you're not with it.
One window I passed, I noticed I was slumped over a little more, like a real outcast. As I kept going, I saw a sneer on my face a mile wide. I messed up my hair and saw it sticking out like a real crook. I hunched my hands down and arched up my fingers like claws. I took big confident strides, a real devil-may-care nonchalance guiding my movements. I went by one place, stood and looked at myself, then put a hard elbow to the glass, shattering it in a million pieces. Then I ran down the alley as every siren in the county went off.
A crowd gathered over on the north side, watching the police action. I went in amongst them and noticed they were avoiding me. A few of the guys were guarding their wallet pocket. I kept going, determined never to return home. Those days -- those damned days -- are behind me forever...
The truth is, now I'm completely into crime and a bad attitude. I tested out my voice and even it seemed huskier and meaner. As of right now -- I have nothing to live for. That is, nothing but crime and thrills. A final word of warning to every "normal" person: WATCH OUT FOR ME!