Jotting Down the Memory of J

Mister J was always my pride and joy. He had a laugh that was contagious like the Red Death.

His death wasn't real; he's just hiding, waiting to make a huge reappearance like he always does.

He's not dead.

He's just hiding.

He's not crazy.

I'm not crazy.

Everyone else just doesn't see the world like we do.

Like he did.

Does.

He's not dead.

He's just hiding.

Waiting.