This is completely not serious, I say, grindin' my knuckle against my thigh with enough force to kick start an annoying, but aptly named, Charley horse. I am so completely and utterly mellowed out by the series of events that transpire perpendicular to me, that discussing how levelheaded and serene I am proves both inefficient and redundant. It's starting to cool down, in my neck of the woods. Time marches on regardless of our input, soldiers in a straight line of progression, endlessly advancing with no opportunity for tightly placed arrows in sparsely fallible regions. The air cools to a tepid burn, a balm against the heat lathe I had been bore against for the duration of summer. The more things change, the more I recall how people change, too. Regardless of input, the world turns, the clock ticks, your bro mysteriously stops being interested in counting how many times he can get punched in the family jewels before he gets dizzy, the leaves change. Remember how people used to unironically tune into the Superbowl for the commercials, dogg? Nowadays, you'd get your ass laughed off the bus for sayin' you're really into puppy monkey baby, or that Doritos commercial where they're playin' on a swingset, but there used to be guys who went to work and announced that. No shame, no fear. Yeah, I like capitalism. Loud and proud. The first to be promoted to executive beheader, under the clown regime's initial rise to power, but still. Cringe guys all around. Remember that? You can't do that anymore. But wasn't that wild? Times change. Crazy.

