Whoa, look at all these medicines!

I watched Forrest Gump the other night and it depressed me because I had a Jenny and I haven't seen her in ages. Her name wasn't Jenny, though. We were like four and we used to roll down this steep hill with all these limestone rocks everywhere or pretend we were in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. On Christmas Eve we go up there to our old next-door-neighbour's house to sing carrols like we used to. Only we used to live next door. I didn't want to sing because I felt shit and was in an anti-social mood which most people took notice of. I went down the old railway which was a walking track and thought about how my friend Laurie, George (his older brother), and I used to got collecting bones of dead sheeps in paddocks. Suddenly I started running and didn't stop until I'd gotten a lot further than I had ever been. It was getting dark and I mistook a farmer's open gate as a continuation of the walkway. So I picked up a stick and started whacking shit like fences and pinecones until I realised I was outside this farmer's house. I got scared and during my journey down the long, dark driveway taught myself to believe I was a ghost. I was getting freaked out, when I popped out onto the road just round the corner from my Jenny's old house. That didn't help anything really, but I knew the way back from there. I felt so odd running down the middle of that road which used to seem really busy with big, speeding trucks, but was now empty. It was at night, mind you.