Hi there,
Thank you for reaching out. I am currently within arm’s reach of my phone. In fact, I see that you’re calling right now.
Unfortunately, my mind is in such a state of overwhelm that taking a phone call, even from a good friend, or a routine trip to the grocery store would suck the sole surviving drop of energy directly from the tit of my shriveled hypothalamus.
Leaving me baking in the sun like a sponge. A sponge who, with his best mate, left his underwater oasis, a list in his pocket with one task: “Venture Bravely.”
A world soon seen appeared at first glance so vast, so serene. But the mind’s eye lacked to see that which wasn’t as it seemed.
The sponge was in awe, his mind buzzing as he took in the bees, trees, birds & all. His cognition was insufficient to ever form a matrimony of words so holy as to aptly articulate even the most lackluster attribute of a land of such beauty.
Suddenly, a sensation rushes over him, adrenaline immediately following. He feels immense pressure on his back. He looks over & sees several short, dark tentacles. Surely it’s a misunderstanding. His second-best friend is a squid, after all. Then, pressure on his front. Oh, that’s just his best friend, clinging for dear life.
All of a sudden they’re ripped from the water, staring into the face of some unfamiliar lifeform. It throws them in a bag. They pass out, perhaps from exhaustion, perhaps not. They wake up feeling rather hot. They glance above, confounded by the close proximity of the sun. Only then does it occur to them: they may indeed be fucked.
But don’t be so certain you’ve pondered what’s yonder, for the notion of certain death is all but. Sometimes life is all but lost. Just as feeling lost is a fixture of life, so often, once time unveils, the bride is found to be wisdom—a blessing in disguise.
Perhaps death shan’t do them part. For in a final act of friendship, in mutual acceptance of lives well lived, they breathe one final breath & sigh a goodbye… A tear releases from each, but from each the tear falls from only one eye.
The two droplets form together in perfect union before dripping into an electrical socket, shorting out the flickering fixture that has aided in the taking of untold lives. Their sensitive disposition narrowly prevented him from being sold as a loofah, while Patrick would’ve been destined to hang stone-faced on the wall of a Captain D’s. A fate far more aromatic than angelic. Yet not a doubt in his head that it would’ve been Heaven.
Anyways.
I will be on sabbatical indefinitely. The only thing guaranteed is that I definitely will be back. I likely will not review non-obligatory voicemails & emails, but I could likely bring myself to read a text in 3–5 business days.
If your request is urgent, please reach out to my mother for help, & please send my regards. I imagine she’s as concerned about my whereabouts as anyone.
Your Pal,
CAL