My humor fades, and I float through decades. As kids, as teenagers, as adults. Staying up late reading comics, sneaking to parties—all the plans we never made in college. All the lies we told. I touch these memories. I can go as far back as I want, to the gravest depths. The past can’t drag me under. I relive the better parts that are intertwined with bad. Because I look back and think, Christ, we were so goddamn fragile. Look how far we’ve come. Look at us now.
