The title says it all and yet here we are, the screen sharing all these little, mundane secrets with 50 million people. Wait, how many are on this site? Wait, how many read this? I only count every OTHER day, so who knows. Who knows. Ever tried Zero Calorie Go2Cola? There are two empty cans next to a picture of my son. He's sleeping. Babies do that. I feel like I'm on crack. Crank. Above that is some Superman press-on logo for t-shirts I'll never buy, but it hangs...hangs...hangs pinned to the wall with tacks and putty and mastisol because I think the weight of being Superman would be incorrigible, always trying to jump off the page, off the screen, off the wall with super-human depression fighting abilities. So I fight to become a nominal Superman. Someone who fights demons with a paint brush or maybe a finely tuned pencil sharpener. Fights them in basements and next to accountants, tick-ticking away on brainstems and doppio con pannas. Whipped Cream. I'll spray it right into my mouth if I have to ! I'll do it ! I... will... do... it ! Crazy, insane that the dart board next to the picture of my son and the press-on Superman logo is all black. With gray, and red and green, but I must be color-blind because it came labeled as such. Black/Gray/Red/Green and I think of stoplights and stopsigns and try to remember when the last time I stopped at one was. Blue/Red/White lights. Don't get in the car! Don't blow! It's only sugar, officer. Where do I think I'll be in five years? How many days is that?