easter morning

i sure dont remember ever feeling the overwhelming urge to bolt out of bed as early as possible to run out in the yard and find eggs. ive seen the pictures, so i believe that at one time i was practically pissing my pants (probably literally too) to suit up in lederhosen and destroy the landscaping of my parents’ house in search of eggs and chocolate. (actually, from what i remember it was more like getting my ass kicked by all the spiky juniper bushes in front of the house in coldwater canyon.)
now its more like struggling awake to fish around in the kitchen for some granola and yogurt, vitamins and anti-depressant, tangerine juice and a cup of jasmine-scented green tea. fuck, im a skinhead hippie.

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