Matt here, checking in. There's nothing to do here and nowhere to go because everything in Blackbottom is meticulously engineered to incentive poverty and ya boi is broke as shit , so I was walking around because so far, that's free, when I saw a kid in the ditches on 46th Street who looked exactly like Once-Upon-A-Matt. Seriously, this kid had shoulder-length black hair, an ill-advised wallet chain, and a Lacuna Coil shirt that I'd bet he's going to grow out of around sophomore year of college, if I had two pennies to bet. I thought maybe it was just an echo. Time repeating itself, like it's failing its own calibration and trying to correct being out of phase. Like that Civil War soldier I got to watch get shot every night in the backyard when I lived in Dawson, Alabama. Or like one of the handfuls of quasidecent explanations of the Mandela Effect. But I don't remember doing the stuff he was doing. Now, generally, that's no surprise. As a kid, I pla...
