Just Want To Tell You Guys Something
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Very good work at sharing your emotions ?
I was reading this and thinking about my shoes. I usually wear my Beckets, but since it was rainy, a fine mist of rain left on my car window, I wore my blue Adidas. They are a very cobalt blue, more blue than the sky, which is way up high, well, as we all know the sky really comes all the way down to the ground. The ground where worms live, tilling up the earth as they do, making a mess, making it necessary to wear shoes, especially since it is cold and my feet would get wet and muddy. And, then it dawned on me, where did he get Scirocco Latakia? My first wife found panties in the glove compartment of my van once. The English also call it a glove compartment, which is odd, because they call parts of the car the wrong thing all the time and they drive on the wrong side of the road and cause a lot of traffic problems when they try to drive in the US which probably shouldn't be allowed. The panties my first wife found turned out to be hers, which made it unusual for her to get mad at me about, especially since I found out soon after that she was taking her panties off for the entire town, of which lots of other wives were probably getting mad at their husbands for having her panties in their glove boxes, but explaining that will make this response even longer than necessary, and the secret to marriage will forever remain a secret because I always wanted a caring, beautiful, and loving wife, and my first wife had always just longed to be a US citizen. She was Irish, and she was fucking nuts.
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I wish to apologize as I realize my original correspondence might of come off opaque, disjointed, jittery even. Perhaps, I did not clarify enough, I should of written more, apparently. I will say now that I woke up rather agitated. My upstairs neighbor Dr. Ivolgin lost his cat a couple days ago, I could hear him pacing all night. He is rather upset by it which is rather a surprise as I could often hear him berating his cat, nightly, through the floorboards. Last night I could just hear him walking, pacing the apartment. It sounded as if he was walking in circles around the apartment as I could hear him leaving and entering his bedroom, sometimes banging into furniture. It was likely his bumping into these objects which woke me on occasion, only to wake and stare restlessly at the ceiling, hearing him pace. I would fall asleep and wake again, often feeling like my mouth was parched, like I was staring at the sea under the blaring sun, when I spent that afternoon many years walking the beaches of El Kala. But, as I wrote earlier, I rather not speak further about what happened that day. Thank you for listening. I will have a bowl of Maman's mixture now.
I noticed this as I glanced at your posts. If I was able to listen to the saga, as opposed to having to read well . . . But, I won't read anything requiring me to struggle and squint. I'm old so, perhaps I'm not in your target audience with my aged eyes.
So, whatever your complaint/problem/observation is, good luck with resolving, celebrating or,ignoring it.
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I knew you were a speed reader.
I didn’t see a Suicidal Tendencies reference coming but I like it and it does seem appropriate somehow.
What if life is really but just a dream, and all of this is an illusion... in which case, I definitely paid too much for my truck. 
Thank you for your reply, I do not hold it against your aged eyes, that you did not read most of what I wrote. But, in the least you read my expression of gratitude towards every member here. Your mention of eyes, that reminds me of my own eyes, when I walked the beaches of El Kala, not so much my eyes but the feeling that my eyes experience on that fateful day, the feeling of the blistering sun in them and of the stinging of my sweat, as it trickled down my face in that searing sun. I do not know the term, for when you look across a beach or desert and the heat looks to sizzle up from the sand. This alone makes it hard to see clearly when walking on a beach or a desert, not mentioning the sweat and the punishing sun. The sun which punishes man under certain circumstances, rewards him under others. Maybe this is the point, maybe this is why my time at El Kala chafes so much like sand in one's knickers, not like sand which fills bags to abut a levee. Sand which is mixed with clay and slurry to make bricks, maybe that is redundant as slurry implies the use of sand.
Thank you for posting @Puff nstuff
I truly enjoy your writing and I hope that if someone ever compiles a book of @JOHN72 posts you will have time to write the forward.
Thanks again and I’ll be watching for your next post.
I truly enjoy your writing and I hope that if someone ever compiles a book of @JOHN72 posts you will have time to write the forward.
Thanks again and I’ll be watching for your next post.
As a sequel, you could share a long paragraph about the beaches of El Kala.
At least he used punctuation and capitals anyone remember Michael Feldman’s write up his sentences continued on and on without stop selling some amazing pipes but you couldn’t make heads or tails of the listing because your head just hurt trying to put it all together and stuff
Red is grey, and yellow white, but we decide which is right…What if life is really but just a dream, and all of this is an illusion... in which case, I definitely paid too much for my truck.
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