How People Fade Out Of Your Memory

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Jan 27, 2020
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I saw a face the other day, though as I stopped to tie my Weejuns, recalling that the had no laces and I recalled, that, that face is one that I knew. Then, the nose on that face, blew into a balled up mask maybe carried as a spare, perhaps one needed to washed as maybe it had some stain, either chocolate or harissa or Chick Fil A sauce. I could hear the low blowing hiss of time, like a bursting cyst in that internal boiler room, nothing to do with actual pustulation, more puzzling.

I resisted an urge, to get pissed. What a pisser of a day and I thought the length of my inseams seemed, a tad short as time is short when the gas in the tank seems low. And those days when, a hole developed in my Targa top creating in me a need, to driver faster in the rain, than in dry weather. Snow, falls more sideways which never concerned me much, unless I by the worse of conditions I found myself sliding into a corner.

I saw a face the other day, and I recalled some time later, our faces spent time together and I thought as we passed, how I barely remember that face despite, being face to face year after year, across in a cubical perhaps, or in a weekly pole dancing class.

In the driveway I ruminated some more, closed the front door, exited the back door went into the shed sat on the slight ledge which runs along the far wall like a race track for dust. I sat for a while but really it was more like a sustained lean, long enough to no longer recall the face I recently faced but still feeling bothered about the fuzzy and the fuss created out of my own internet outage.
 
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Jan 27, 2020
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To say nothing is to say everything, in the face of oblivion, the new beginning. Everything is nothing, and nothing is a lot cheaper by the pound, but it's harder to carry in your pocket.

My Pa use to say: dance like your legs are broken, love like STDs don't exist, sing like you're with drunk angry bikers who find you suspicious but you are drunk too and have bad judgment and live like you'll never get to heaven without a bribe.
 
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My Pa use to say: dance like your legs are broken, love like STDs don't exist, sing like you're with drunk angry bikers who find you suspicious but you are drunk too and have bad judgment and live like you'll never get to heaven without a bribe.
My dad used to say that laughter was the best medicine... which explains why so many of us died of pneumonia. puffy