(no subject)
Take it easy, Amanda. Its time to clean the raccoon off your face, get some sleep, and get your sanity back. Maybe I dropped it somewhere in the forest along with my hot dog/bun combination. Maybe it's under the sofa bed, at the bottom of the empty rum bottle you threw away, somewhere in the 11 minute phone conversation that made a worse than worse, lost with the now quiet laughter at british comedy, in your dirty pants pockets, or somewhere in your immediate depths along with your new nudity and fiending obsessions. Call to it, I'm sure it misses you too.