I wasn't always rich and famous. Once upon a time, I was just damned good looking. This was in the days when all the ladies would line up for blocks to throw rose petals at me as I walked by. I never had the heart to tell them I was allergic. Producers would option my naps. Time apologized for all the noise it made as it passed, and I'd politely suggest it wear only cotton. For this, the cotton farmers of America put my likeness on all their hats. I've got a closet full. I'll show you some time. For breakfast, people drank my thoughts. I became the only word that rhymed with orange. They said my eyes were the color of something they'd forgotten until just that moment. And they'd thank me, for hours, they'd thank me.
But that was before we forgot to eat in all the rush, and our stomachs devoured themselves through to our hearts. Back when we had time to drop dead. Now, we're nothing but smell. Now, there's too much work to do to ever do any work. We're so busy yelling we can't hear everyone else yelling. Now, we're all pushing each other in every which a way, none of us making the slightest progress, all of us hating our own inertia.