it's the end of summer and i'm sitting on a tree stump watching centipedes crawl on the ground. i can see more of them as i start to search. they're starting to curl up because it's getting colder and the leaves are falling too fast for me to catch them.

it's autumn and i'm
watching the fireworks at the state fair, seeing the bright brilliance of these explosions

for an eternity on the black canvas of night. they melt and they freeze because

it's winter

now and we'd like to have a fire but no one wants to chop the wood.
supposed to be a cold one, they say, but it's over quickly and
soon forgotten.

spring is nice, i'm thinking,
    watching flowers bloom all around me. a fresh start. life is to be cherished. so as

i sit here

    counting the days until i'm free i look out over the field of my days of learning and realize


  high up in an office building.
i get a memo telling me i'll be flying to england on friday.

(labor is
so very painful.)

my children hate me, i think as i send them off to college.

,,., ., ,,.

and i'm sitting here

watching the centipeds come closer and closer to me when i realize that

i'm actually riding down
the highway when i go over the median and a car's headed straight towards me and i don't have any time to reflect on my life i just think "WOW" and i hear a pop and



i don't know why i'm systematically killing all the centipeds. the only thought that's going through my head is that i hope they have their shitty moment of "wow."

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