my poor, poor backpack pocket. my favorite backpack pocket, if you will. the zipper on you has broken and the pocket rendered useless.
so ends an era and begins a new one in which this backpack which I've managed to use and keep in working condition for the past 8 years begins to fall apart. seriously, this was my favorite pocket. I kept my ipod in there, my little reminder notebook, various other objects that were too small to keep in the larger pockets but still needed to be accessed readily, was in the perfect position since if I dropped my backpack on the ground it would receive minimal impact...
goodbye, old pocket.
what, can't a person mourn over an inanimate object he has an emotional attachment to? (that's what she said)(or he...m'eh.)
"...and feel free to shit on my pillow and toothbrush too."
-BM
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