But it has long since been forgotten, or perhaps it will be repeated by the only other person listening; to a raucous round of applause, and laughter obviously. I don’t write punchlines, I live jests that carve deep. Hewn from the bone by a life lived, and felt, most deeply. Am I sensitive to it still? Yes. Do I make a meal of it all? Often. But only when alone with my thoughts. Just desserts you may wonder? A pun? In this economy, you must be madder than a shit house rat. More like a little known chess move aptly named “the elephant mans emission“. Loud, sloppy, and so much more than a person could handle. You feel that? Slipping through your fingers. That’s time, and you have a finite amount of it, and no one can see their own hour glass to know how exacting they should be when delegating their allotted time out. It’s rough out there for a cowboy. Ride a donkey. Or the neighbours wife I don’t recall how that idiom goes.
Absurdity is a pass time of mine. For brief injections of fun only. Used sparingly. Sprinkle on your breakfast, or mix it into your favourite drink. Not for use with existentialism or nihilism. May cause drowsiness or disdain in others. Sleep well.
Tuesday is upon us. That means library runs for both kids today. And on a more sombre note, Tomorrow is the two year anniversary of the passing of my friend and her daughter. I think of them both often. I still dread going into the summer months for fear of losing more friends, and their offspring. We did lose Great Grandma but at 97, and struggling with dementia it was all but a certainty. My friend was out of the blue, and had not been struggling in an LTC for nearly five years. They hit differently. Listen to me ramble, I need to eat. Ciao Bella!
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