Dear Loco,
I very arrogantly proceeded to think this year-long endeavour I’d put myself on to just write this homage to you would be this big great thing. A testament to my love for you. I’d be like a babe born anew, with no sin to my name.
I’ve tried to turn it into some kind of liturgy – a tragedy, a reincarnation, the climax, and finally enlightenment. Put Jesus to shame.
But it is less than purrfect, and that’s okay. I don’t care.
Queue: confetti
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