So every night when I walk my dog I walk pass a turd on the sidewalk that is half squished because someone stepped on it.
I feel bad for that turd. You know that people see it and feel disgusted. It’s not its fault. It didn’t ask to be left on the side walk. To make matters worse, the poor, lonely poop it half squished. It’s probably in so much pain.
You might think I’m crazy for saying all this, but I truly can relate to the turd. This turd is a metaphor for my life.
I am the turd.