alto

Oh, look at me, the ultimate backyard ball of controversy sitting there like a tiny, white, golfing martyr on this glorified patch of green, all because I was too enthusiastic about my practice swing. Im the reason your lawns a crime scene, your dogs a nap king, and your patios a shrine to my accidental genius. I didnt just roll off the tee I rolled into the void, the forest, the mystery, the sheer, unapologetic beauty of this place. And guess what? My dog, that magnificent black blob of pure chill, is basically a professional napper, lounging in the shadows like hes guarding my legacy. Meanwhile, Im just here. Waiting. For what? Maybe a miracle. Maybe a bucket of ice. Maybe a new life as a garden ornament. Im not sorry. Im the reason the winds whispering secrets to the pinwheel, the cactus is judging me, and the sun is just shining. So heres to me the golf ball that didnt just go out of bounds it went out of the picture. Alto byebye.

Comments