Turns out it was nothing.

You know that feeling you get when you’re falling, right
before you hit the ground? The feeling that pain is coming, and there’s nothing
you can do but watch as it flies towards you? My life, at this point, is like
that; except it never stops. Every breath I take, every move I make, they’ll be
watching me. I know that that’s a Police song, it doesn’t hurt to try to make
shitty situations more bearable. But seriously, at this point I really wish
that every little thing I did was magic. Bam, did it again. Alright, look, this
has got to stop. I’m trying to tell one of the greatest stories the world has
ever heard, and you’re sitting here singing Police songs? There’s a time and a
place for everything, this is neither of those.
Ok, so the whole hitting the ground, fearing for my life
thing; right. As I was saying, things have not been going so swimmingly for me
as of late. In fact, I dare say things are downright out to get me as I sit
here telling this story, horrible things.
You see, about four days go, I was just a normal-ish 20 year
old man living a normal enough life. My day started with me waking up, and
ended with me going to sleep. That’s normal, right? I don’t really remember
what happens between those two points though, because I’m a frequent smoker of
that chronic. You know; that mary-jane, the dank, the dankity, doobies, bowls,
Buddha, ganja, doja, hemp, herb, Mexican Marlboro, the devil’s lettuce, aunt
marry, bud, weed, whatever you want call it. Wow, I’m like an Eskimo, but I
have hundreds of words for bud. Does that make me a stoner? I think not. Quite
the contrary, in fact, because I think that after all I’ve been through, some
would call me a hero. But by some, I mean you; and by would, I mean should.
Because about four days ago, which is probably like 1,000 minutes, I dare say I
changed the world. I’m going to tell the story like how all great stories are
told. So behold (ha) the story.
Once upon a time, about four days ago, I was enjoying a nice
lazy afternoon in the park. I was minding my own business, sitting on a bench
and listening to my music, when shit got real. This dude ran by wearing like a
suit, and I was like “who would wear a suit to run?” when I realized he was
being pursued by more dudes in suits. The dudes that were chasing the dude all
had guns and they looked pretty pissed. I was the only one who witnessed this,
and I knew that it was my duty, as a man, to help dude out. I set down my
didgeridoo (and I bet you thought I meant I was listening to an Ipod. Bet you
feel real stupid now) and began pursuit. After about a block I was out of
breath, so I stopped at a Starbucks and picked up a frappachino and a muffin,
and took a break. About forty minutes later I resumed my chase. Somehow, by
this point, the dudes I was chasing that were chasing that dude managed to get
away from me. Defeated, I walked back to my apartment to nap on my couch; I had
run for a minute or two, after all. Unfortunately, when I got back to my abode
it was aflame. Using classy words doesn’t lighten the situation at all, but I
figured I would give it a shot. Anyway, my house was burning, the three things
I owned were burning, and some dude in a suit probably died because I couldn’t
find him. So far, this was not a good day. That’s when the bears attacked. Yes,
I said bears, I also said attack; because that is exactly what they did. Now,
I’m sure we’ve all been in a bear fight at least once in our lives, but these
bears had samurai swords and flamethrowers. It wasn’t until the dude riding the
unicorn showed up to save the day that I realized something was off. Turns out,
I’ve spent all day tripping balls on a movie studio lot, I don’t even own an
apartment (or three things), and my frappachino cost like eight bucks. Worst
day ever? I’d say yes, but that’s debatable.