Lemonade...50 cents

Sometimes you find yourself surrounded with lemons.



So you do what any optimist would do and make lemonade.
You squeeze the sour from each and every lemon until the juice runs between your fingers and the sour smell makes your eyes burn...
Then you add sugar...just a little at first, and icy cold water, saving some of it to relieve the rawness on your hands from all the acidic juice.

Then you take your first drink.
You draw a long time from the cup and after you already have a mouthful, you realize that it's too tart and you long to spit it all out...
But you don't.
You swallow it and you pucker up your mouth, half disapprovingly but mostly disgusted with the taste of it and you add more sugar.

Then you add a whole lot more sugar. After all, more sugar can't hurt it.

So you take another drink, sipping this time to test it and you realize it's pretty damn good. So you drink and drink from this endless supply of lemonade because the lemons keep coming and you keep on making the best of it.

But in time, you grow tired of that sour sweet taste. You come to hate the sight of anything yellow and even lemon scented furniture polish makes your stomach turn. (So you just stop dusting your furniture.)



At night you dream of crystal cold streams flowing freely down majestic mountains, endless skies of azure filled with fluffy white clouds and you wake up happy.

Until you step out of bed and you feel a lemon smashed flat beneath your foot, squished between your toes.

So many lemons...

What to do with them all?

Some people sell their lemonade. They make a lot of money too. Selling novels...



Or books of poetry....some even write songs about their lemons...singing in soft, sad voices that make us all feel united in some way.

Cause we all have lemons...

Honestly, I'm sick of lemons...lemonade...yellow...sour...bitter...

You won't hear this come out of my mouth very often but...I'm going shopping today.



Fucking lemons...