
Sunny October TenthI can still feel that stained carpet on my toes, the one where I used to play tug of war with my dog until he got hit by that Mac truck in February because he’s stupid and thought it was trying to conquer his territory / or something, but now I guess I’m the stupid one, because here I am flying out over the streetlights and sidewalks, just waiting to crack against the pavement like some gigantic Humpty Dumpty, which makes me glad that there’s a precedent for not being able to put people back together, because I’m almost positive that even if they did, there would be at least one or two pieces switched around that would make just the smallest difference and then Humpty Dumpty wouldn’t really be himself anymore, and that’s sad because I’ve always at least been myself, even if a little misguided, and at least I wasn’t one of those soul ****** drones that took the medication and good god this is taking forever I chose this because I thought it would be quick, because I didn’t want to end up like the squirrel Josh ran over on White Oak Road where just about everything in him was smashed except one leg and his head and he just sat there twitching for like thirty seconds or at least until I couldn’t really see him anymore because we were driving away, which is odd because if it had been a dog or a cat we would have stopped, like the mac truck driver did for Jake in February, but since it was a squirrel we just chuckled and kept on driving over to the Dairy Queen, the biggest one in the world actually, and it even has a sign saying so, and I always tapped it as I walked inside the place, which really wasn’t so much a huge place as slightly bigger than the other Dairy Queens of the world, and I would have really liked to travel the world but it was too expensive and the world isn’t really too keen on meeting some country yokel who can’t even pronounce Thucydides correctly, which I really don’t get why we don’t have any cool names in the modern times, because everyone’s roll sheets and grave stones and birth certificates read like a grocery list, / John,