My food blistered. I bit into moons. A particle drifted off Jupiter and climbed into the mozzarella. Today I woke up and climbed out of bed and slept the afternoon on the floor. I could live in a bathtub if you mail me boxes of cheerios. The sun would not find the bathtub. People would send me butter in glued envelopes. I am going to eat parmesan until my face crumbles and my armpits turn to dust. Turn me into a particle and mail me to Neptune.