For Aron Ralston

I wish I was an amputee. One deformity to set me aside from the people who think they are better. I could still type with one arm. Or maybe a large peice of cinderblock will break away from the lecture hall in Hickman during orgo lecture and land directly on my lap, smashing my femur into bits. The peices of bone shattered across my punctured thigh and torn quadriceps would lie stagnant in my usless apendage. Even with strangers, there would be that one story everyone wants to hear. How did you lose that leg? What happened to your arm? Tell it again, tell it again. Feed the fish. It's hard for people to judge your rotten looks and terrible attitude when your hobbling around in a wheelchair. I'd probably bomb the bike hill to Hickman on my wheelchair, somone would pick me up when I hit the ground. But not everyone is granted the unbridled altruism of strangers, you have to suffer through something traumatic first. I was surfing over the reef in Santa Teresa. A shark swam up and bit it off. The work of a puppeteer is never complete. Remember what the teacher told you about keeping your arm in the bus? Pull the strings. I fell off the walkway. Dance marionette. On the black market one leg is worth several thousand dollars. Dance. There's a limitless window of forgiveness when people automatically feel sorry for you. Just because I'm missing a limb it doesn't mean I'm less of a human. I can still lie, cheat, and steal. Lookout while I steal this Metallica album, stash it in my chair. My cast has a pocket for dime bags. The hole in my head where my eye used to be, I can fit a lot of things in there. Dont feel bad for me. I'm just as lost as any other person, but I move slower. I work for the Environmental Protection Agency to develop safer and more efficient fueling methods and hydrogen gas is a higly flammable substance. Who else wants to hear my story? Feed the fire. http://hike.mountainzone.com/2003/news/html/030502_amputate-arm.html