Two years ago I saw a cloud that looked just like first grade. I knew it was first grade because it said “1,” and not “2,” or anything else. I saw that same cloud today. I pooped in my pants and cried all the way home.

I don’t know why those things hang around, but sometimes it really makes me think. “Why am I here? Who am I?” etc. It pisses me off, too, because I already know who I am, and I sure as hell know why I’m here. As soon as I told all this to the cloud, he sort of frowned, and then started to rain. Then I started to cry, too, and I realized why clouds can be both a symbol for happiness and sadness, though I have since forgotten. Maybe it’s because they tend to look like grade school, which is a giant bag of mixed emotions. Speaking of which, I have a great story that I’ll tell you later.