Dad and James Bond

Dad sleeping on the sofa.

I watch James Bond. His movie. He started it.

I don’t want to watch my own movies.

I don’t know.

I want his.

Because I want him.

In my life.

Just because.

I am his son.

And James is schizoid.

That’s why he’s good at his job.

No emotional struggle.

Just mother nature.

Simple.

I am schizoaffective.

If the diagnosis is correct.

Maybe I will be good at something.

Maybe I already am.

I don’t know.

And no one else can be.

I hope.

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