One of the Fans

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The girl lives next door. She is young and beautiful. Almost a goddess. I know she is involved in music and is a great singer. Her records had been playing on the radio for over a year now and as luck is with her, she will soon be doing a stint on television.
I have a chair in the back corner room of the house and I often just sit there, occasionally looking out the window, hoping to get a glimpse of her as she passes by.
Some times I wonder if she has a fan club that I could be a part of, or even be bold enough to start my own. I know of plenty of others that would want to be her fans also.
Now, just for the record, I don’t smoke, drink alcohol, or take drugs, but there are times that I do get on a high just seeing her and it sends my head into a spin.
My doctor told me that I have to slow down or I will wear myself out. He advised me that when I see her to try and cool down.
She has the beauty that could easily place her on a pedestal.
I know she is a bit older than me, but I’m not bothered. She is 16 and I am only12. Well that’s only four years and when she is 21, I will be 17, and a lot of people would then think that the age difference isn’t that great.
Yesterday, I saw her for a short time, but the condensation on the window restricted my vision, so I just blew some cool air on the glass and the moisture soon disappeared.
On the odd occasion I get switched on, but I quickly cool down.
I don’t like it when people push my buttons as I upset easily and could blow a fuse.
You probably think I’m a pervert, but actually I’m only a plastic, oscillating three speed fan with a 240v heart.

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