When I wake up the next morning, "good" can't be the right word to describe the state I'm in. Or anything at all. I sit, and I let the sadness hit me like a truck. The good thing is: when you're hit by a truck, you're dead. When you let sadness hit you like a truck, you're still alive and feeling. And that makes you quite invincible, right? Thanks, THE JIM TABLOWSKI EXPERIENCE, thanks, SNITCH A SNATCH, thanks, KEITH. Good bye.
