So the cop who lives across the street from me, is outside working on his wifes car. I wanted to go speak with him. I feel like from watching him interract with his wife and 3 dogs, he just seems like a nice guy. His dogs are well behaved, and rarely bark, when they do however I get suspect of the current company of our neighborhood. Little Link starts to bark as well when they do and what can I say… I trust the kids judgement. I ran through the conversation in my head. I would start by saying “Good evening sir. Would you like a hand and some company? I just got off work and am going to be awake for awhile and I sure feel like talking.” He would of course ask immediately out of genuine interest, “Where do you work? And I never caught your name?” “Sorry,” I would lightly reply, “My name is Jake Sellers, this is my dog Link. I work at RMDS in the Rayloc building, right behind Payson Market.” About at this point I began to reexamine the situation from behind the desk of a realist. It is 11:30 at night. That dude is going to think you just smoked a quarter of Angel Dust. His dogs are going to be flipping the fuck out, and why shouldn’t they? Some giant dude with an American Bulldog is walking up to their dad… I would expect nothing less from Plankon. When did I reach the point where friends get murdered and I’m scared to talk to my next door neighbor? I miss my child mind. I miss being innocent. I miss not knowing a lot of shit. I hope death leads us into the mind of a child. Then we will learn to trust again. Then we will learn to love again. I hope death leads me into the mind of a child.