Well, Chauncy, it looks like rain.

I’m reading this book and the main character’s name is Chance, but everyone calls him Chauncy because he doesn’t correct them and for some reason I find it insanely aggravating. What the fuck is wrong with you, Chance? Maybe it’s just the main character I find aggravating. Everything goes obnoxiously well for him, even though he’s an idiot gardener.

I don’t even know how to garden. I guess things aren’t really going poorly. They’re just not great. Actually, everything is fine except for I wake up every day and my stomach hurts. Real bad. So bad I can’t move until it stops hurting. I went to the doctor but the medicine didn’t help and I don’t want to go back. I just want to wake up tomorrow without any pain. Then life would be positively blissful.

This morning while I was walking to school I saw two insects that were either stuck together or having sex. I’m not sure why I thought those were the only two options.


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