sad, sad, sad

just now, i was on the roof. the ice cream truck was close enough that i could barely pick out the tune-it was "oh come all ye faithful". i felt neither joyful nor triumphant. micah had just spoken to the pet store lady. baby veronica will most likely be sold by sunday. sunday. there is no way i scare up $2000 by sunday. i can't imagine my life without veronica lyn s.p. lamirand-mcgraw. i could just die. this dog has changed my life. i spent the whole day at work dreaming up outfits i could make for her.

sitting here now, i can clearly hear the ice cream truck sing "do your ears hang low". shut up!shut up! shut up! it is none of your damn business how my ears hang! can't you see that my heart is broken? can't you see that my one true dream has been dashed? why don't you quit selling meth laced push-up pops and give me $2000?

now i'm listening to morrisey. morrisey is the only one who understands me. micah just shared some sort of anecdote about something, but as i was trying to listen, his face morphed into a furry, white, baby dog.

by morning, whatever is left of the pieces of my shattered heart will dissolve into tiny undectable ash and float away only to assimilate with the smut of the city to join in the sad choir of broken hearts that is to blame for the polluted air and deceptive sunsets.

i may never recover...