I will be in Montana by this time tomorrow.
I never thought I would be able to make it. Not after introducing my lower back to the highest peaks of a waist-height wall. My fall from grace.
Not after having the thought: I should never have been gay Clark Kent for Halloween as I crawled through the empty halls of my workplace, unable to stand. Not after trying to breakdance under a heavy blanket on a dirty floor, which turned into a broken dance when my back re-snapped. Not after making fun of Brokeback Mountain by putting my best friend’s face over Heath Ledger’s.
Do I deserve this vacation? No. Will I live? Without a doubtfire, the goal will be to extinguish myself from the pack. Be not surprised, scared, or regretful if my life ends this week. I have loved you all once, and that is enough for me.
Haiti could have used you a month ago!
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