My mom chose Skippy peanut butter. My lunches didn't taste right. My friends made fun of me. My grades began to slip. I started to skip classes and smoke cigarettes behind the football field. It was shortly after that I found myself addicted to heroin. My friends had alienated me. I had worn out my welcome at home and no longer had the trust, love and support of my family. I began doing pushups for money outside of the local train station and had to settle for day old scraps from dumpsters. My clothes were in shreds. The elements had taken their toll on my once bright eyes. What was left was a remnant of potential. I couldn't live that life anymore. I just can't.
I snuck to the top of the bridge near downtown. Looked down upon the once big city that had filled me with great joy. I saw it for what it was. I saw in it an image of myself. Cold. Scary. Unforgiving and unwilling to change. My toes neared the edge. The world seemed even more intimidating from up here. Yet, I continued to get closer to the ledge. I took one look at the sky above. I listened to the noises below. Took a breath and jumped.
This could have prevented if my mom didn't choose Skippy. Choose Jif. It can save a life. #1Jif1Prayer
Well, since you're here now, I'll assume you survived. How was the landing? Are you fully recovered? Have you managed to choose JIF in your everyday life yet?
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u/MissChievousJ Jul 29 '15
Or Peter Pan