This morning as I was ironing for work, I thought about my C — and carnage came to mind.
The carnage of ideas.
Millions of left over words, thoughts, beliefs, feelings and images float through mind like space debris making its way throughout the galaxy.
Slain ideas that sit in the stew of my meddled mind, coming back to life, zombie-like: Remember me? You haven’t forgotten, have you? C’mon, it’ll work. It’s worth it. Remember when? It felt good. Even your mom did it..
Whispers in the shadows of memory.
Which probably explains why I’m trying to get BACK into pressed button-downs and sharp creases..