So, once I was on a mountain, and saw a man- he was old. When I was in my safe bed I realized it was me, looking back from that mountain. Then I died… happy or content?
A sun that sets as we frantically descend from the Double Shot on 75-cent nights at the beach boardwalk.
I never thought that at 25, I’d squeal like a newborn piglet just bursting from it’s mother’s womb, swimming in a sea of fresh placenta blood.
Anyways, moving on, my life is actually not that exciting and my next move is to add to my collection of rare elephant tusks… boo yah shak a lah!
But really, if I may be serious for a moment, it’s beginning to occur to me that when I do actually die, like perish, I fear that hell might be waiting for me at the other end.
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