As I set in my new apartment, unpacking all of my worldly belongings. It dawned on me that the few boxes I see around me; hold everything that defines who I am. These are my worldly possessions. As I sat in my new living room I started to count the boxes that hold the proof of my existence. I had to stop at 12; because that is all there is. My life can be summed up in 12 boxes. “Hello I’m blstern, please look in these 12 boxes to get to know me”. I know there are people out there that can throw away 12 boxes of their things and it would not determine the course of there life or even their day. But for me 12 boxes would erase everything that I am… Everything I have done…. Remove me from existence if you will.
How does one come to a point where they carry their life in only 12 boxes????
I guess it could be the whole being wanted in 11 states because these boxes are filled with severed heads, so I have to keep moving to stay ahead of the law thing… Yeah, that does kind of suck.
Well I guess it’s time to get my hostage out of box number nine. Put on my giant beaver wearing a diaper costumer and go around to the neighbors introducing ourselves as Thunder Jones, “King of the Beavers” and his squaw Lime Squats. I really hope we can lay low for awhile, this place it kind of nice.
Hot Lard 