Happy Birthday, James!
This post is a digression from my usual idle prattle, so if your name isn't James Johnson, skip it. Otherwise, read on.
As soon as the clock chimes midnight this evening, it will be my older brother James' birthday. James is my lovely estranged brother who isn't talking to me or my mother. If only he knew how much I miss him and how much I love him and how much I positively ache to talk to him. If I were with him, I'd make him a big cake, and after we ate it, I'd walk with him all over Seattle, pausing only occasionally to look out at Green Lake, or sit by the docks and look out across the sound at Bainbrige Island. That's where he lives, you see: Seattle.
James, if you're reading this I miss you so much. Let's get back together and bury the hatchet. I hope you have a happy birthday. I love you very much!
More later, kiddies.
As soon as the clock chimes midnight this evening, it will be my older brother James' birthday. James is my lovely estranged brother who isn't talking to me or my mother. If only he knew how much I miss him and how much I love him and how much I positively ache to talk to him. If I were with him, I'd make him a big cake, and after we ate it, I'd walk with him all over Seattle, pausing only occasionally to look out at Green Lake, or sit by the docks and look out across the sound at Bainbrige Island. That's where he lives, you see: Seattle.
James, if you're reading this I miss you so much. Let's get back together and bury the hatchet. I hope you have a happy birthday. I love you very much!
More later, kiddies.