Joy

The last time i felt true joy was probably when my family crested the Aranke Ridge in Stattenburg, Kansas in 1874.  The colors of the valley drifted in to each other like a watercolor and the birdsong glinted over it like sun on a lake.  The possibilities were endless in that moment and i felt like our family would last forever.

The one bad thing about that valley in Kansas was that my brother Darrell had to take a shit really bad like right when we had that cresting-the-valley-moment and totally shit his pants and started crying.  One thing about Darrell's crying is that it sounds a lot like a native indigenous person making sloppy love, so naturally we were swarmed by bonered indians within minutes who were looking to fuck, kill, fuck-kill, kill-fuck or something in-between.

Anyways, I just decide to throw in some earbuds and say "fuck it" to all of this stuff.  Next thing I know I am about 2 minutes in to some random Ace of Base song and they capture me.  I traded that walkman for my freedom not minutes later.