trickery with slickery

What would my heaven consist of? I'll tell you. There would be countless numbers of puppies. Everyone could have as many as they wanted. They wouldnt be held back by a leash because it's heaven, and they could do as they want as well. All their shit falls to earth. I would have my creek that runs through my farm running everywhere. But if you wanted to cross, you could walk across without fearing that your feet would get wet. Maybe your feet would be wet, but nobody wears shoes in my heaven so nobody fears little things like wet shoes. Everyone is the 'type' of person they want to be. It doesnt seem like anyone is that 'type' on earth because nobody really knows what the 'type' is. Jack Johnson is following me around with a guitar, singing unchained melodies to me. I am always holding someones hand unless im running. And the hand is never timid or too small or too fat or big. It just fits.

One more final and I'm done with my freshmen year of college. That is one of those sentences where you can't just type 'freshmen year' or 'this year' or 'this semester'. You have to type it all. Everything. 'Freshmen year of college.' Im not ready to go home. Im not ready to have my parents try to tell me what to do. Im too immature to handle that. I dont want to say goodbye. I like being where I am. When the summer ends I'll want to stay at home. Maybe.