• i invented the iInterstellar-tribunal/iPotato-masher/iPenumbral-vortex-vacillator. like a magician it always tells me where i need to go and what worms are in my garden. the last thing it said to me before i left the house was "don't forget that you have a chance today and every other day you're alive " and i realized he was right. though i knew i had lived my entire life for this one moment i knew i would feel the same way the moment after that. unfortunately i am so full of s**t that you can't believe anything i say no matter how serious. but does that mean you actually like me when you hyperventilate into that grocery sack lining your crib? i like to think there is something to all of this but the truth is i write one line at a time. i'd like to think there was something to my life but the truth is i live it one step at a time. when you don't know where you're going you find yourself in a room and don't remember why you are there. premature senility. scurvy. myxomatosis. but what i really want to thank you for is taking me to the edge of a cliff of a country i've never seen - you kept the hand-glider and held me up with just a string. i've tried sterilize my fears and chain myself to the earth but what i want more than anything is a real soul inside to feed and watch it grow strong and wake up before it leaves.

    now we take a departure from our narrative. the crickets are chirping and the cool wind is slicing through the crunchy autumn forest. the panda stuffs his snout with acorns and scuttles out of the way of the impending doom brought about by an unholy combination trilobites and lycopene. One would be tempted to stick the pages together with epoxy, laminate their face, and staple themselves to a wall but that is neither here nor there. the truth is I'm most serious when I'm joking. the mime covers his flesh with leaves and hides in the thicket hoping nobody will notice him but he knows deep down they do even if they don't say anything.