When I was about 5 or 6, my mom and stepdad bought my sister and I bikes for Easter. After church, they said, “Do you want to learn how to ride them?” And I was like, “Of course!”. I had finally gotten the hang of it and I was riding around the circle showing off. My mom told me to “say cheese,” so I glanced at her for a second, and I FUCKING CRASHED INTO A CAR AT FULL SPEED. It was a parked car that I completely missed, so I crashed into it, fell off my bike, and began crying, thinking, “this must be how bugs feel”. Like they’re flying around, living their lives, and then SPLAT. Looking back, it was my first existential crisis.