(-*-)

"what I mean is that my father can tell a bunch of cool stories about back in the day when I was truly great. there is a mountain of gold that has gathered dust in the corner where I used to sleep, and look at all of these pictures. in this one, I am wearing rainbow shorts and hurling rocks at a shoreline. in this one, I am smiling in the glow of 13 lit candles pushed into a sheet of dark sugar. you may ask why I allow my face to drown in less and less joy with each passing year and I will say I just woke up one day and I was a still photo in everyone else's home but my own. or I will say I promise that my legs just need another season, and then I will be who you fell in love with again. and then probably just I'm sorry that there was once a tremendous blue sky and then a decade of hard, incessant rain."

End of description.]