Long story short, the unspoken judgement from
these total strangers grows unbearable and I
ring for the very next stop.
How wonderful that I get to spend the last few
moments of my life dealing with this shit.
My one wish: a rapid, uninterrupted levitation
a pocket of our atmosphere with little or no
oxygen so I can suffocate peacefully.
not suggesting I'm somehow entitled to a refund.
Nor am I about to repackage all that stupid
shit up and mail your idiotic balloon back at
my own expense.
I don't have stamps or envelopes laying around
can offer no sassy, smartass conclusion. No
point. No overview of the material previously
laid forth. For what it's worth, I'm left only
with the desire to fold these thoughts and feelings
up into ten paper airplanes and sail them out