My memory is like the baggage carrousel at the airport. I'm waiting for a thought to come around, just standing there, trying to think, hoping to remember.
Nope, that's not it. So I wait for it to come around again... just standing there. Pretty soon other thoughts are crowding in, searching for their thoughts. Do I know that guy? He looks like...
Stop it. That's nobody. Think. What was it I was trying to remember before, Davis. That's who he looks like, old man Davis. I wonder if it is… Gee, how long has it been...
By the time my thought comes around, it looks nothing like I
remember. I don't recall this being
broken before. Was this always
green? I could have sworn it was brown. No wonder I didn't recognize it.
1 comment:
I can definitely relate!
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