The moment I think I am carefree in this

The moment I think I am carefree in this world the unbreakable bindings that keep me in this depression called reality remind me to carry on being me.

Reality, I figured, is called that because it's the opposite of imaginary. Though I wish and I wish, that I could escape the hell hole called reality, I cannot because what's the

point? How can we distinguish the difference between reality and the imaginary anyway? What if the truth is really just a fabrication? "Dude, eat your tots," my friend Joseph told

me for the millionth time. I annoyed Joseph, but he was still my friend. I stared at my tots. Were they real? I ate one. Or did I only imagine that I ate one? "DUDE! EAT YOUR TOTS!

" I scolded, "Joseph, You friggin' idiot. I ate one and it tastes like vaseline." It was tough being Napoleon Dynamite but I had to. My friend, Joseph frowned at me. "Whats up with

that voice you keep putting on." "It's a Jon Heder impersonation," I replied, hoping he would get it. Joseph was usually good with these things. "I hate it, stop," He begged, but

by now I had gone completely mad with the power I had over other people when I used my Jon Heder voice. People would literally drop everything and play tether ball with me. Whole

industries rose and fell upon my Jon Heder voice. When I said liger in my Jon Heder voice it was parsed by the intelligence services to figure out who the liger represented. Russia

chimed in, (inconspicuously, of course) on social media and on the infamous Moscow Invisible Blitzkreig (MIB - a podcast). Their sole comment? "Vote Pedro." Hmmm. Game on!

But the KGB, which sees no problems with naked assassins, quibbled about how the podcast suggestively recounted their number-one spy's latest exploit. It wasn't a clean operation.