You are a raccoon.
You have a block of cotton candy. It’s a wonderful block. The block will provide you with much joy. Typically, your life is devoted to nocturnal garbage diving in the hopes that you might find the remnants of a candy bar. Today is a banner day, in terms of having a large quantity of sweet things to eat.
But the block is a little dry. And you’re near a little pond or small puddle. To a raccoon, to you, a pond and a puddle are more or less the same. The life of a raccoon is not complicated. The pond is limpid, as clear as your eyes were when you saw your raccoon pups born. That was a wonderful day, almost as wonderful as this.
You think, “I’ll wet the block.”
Something happens. You drop the block into the little pond or small puddle but the block seems to be hiding. What could it be hiding behind? The water is clear. There is nothing in the water. Maybe the block is invisible?
You dunk your paws. The block… the sweet candy… It’s gone.
Where have you gone wrong? You think of Icarus, but for a raccoon with a block of cotton candy.
The block is gone. The water has stolen it, just as 2015 stole your dreams of accomplishment and fortune. You enter the new year, this year of loss and depression, bereft. Your life’s meaning has dissolved alongside the block of cotton candy in a clear pool.
Fuck this world.
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